


The Wolf Among Us

by ScottieisStressed (TeheheHoran)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Blood and Injury, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky in Rut, Creature Fic, Cuddling, Gore, Horny Bucky Barnes, Interspecies Sex, It's a lot happier than it sounds I swear, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Modern Steve Rogers, Non-consensual Medical Work, Occult, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rimming, Romanian Bucky Barnes, Romanian Mythology & Folklore, Rutting, Steve gets a New Arm, Top Bucky Barnes, Violence, Vomiting, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Bucky Barnes, Werewolf Courting, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Witchcraft, but it’s there - Freeform, i mean it’s shitty art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeheheHoran/pseuds/ScottieisStressed
Summary: Steve may or may not have pissed off a very powerful and very evil magic organization and gotten himself kidnapped, and yeah ok that sounds very serious, and like, a big mess and a lot of effort, but honestly it was an accident.Mostly an accident anyways.Sam’s gonna fucking kill him.Aka the werewolf au I cooked up after playing The Wolf Among Us.





	1. Faith

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in this fandom so I'm hella nervous. I wanted to post this as one whole completed work but then I realized I have like 5 days until Steve probably dies in Infinity War. So I wanted to share this sliver of 'happiness' while he's still canonically alive lolololol. This is rough bc it's basically a rough draft but hey.

Steve has the most shit luck ever, he knows that. So, really, he shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes up, clothes in tatters, on a dirt floor in what appears to be a cave but he is. He’s even more surprised at the big ass wolf that is currently being shoved into the cave with him. The wolf is growling and snapping at whoever is prodding it, and the sound sends chills through Steve as his heart rate picks up. There’s a loud clanging and Steve’s heart jumps to his throat as he realizes, _‘Holy fucking shit someone just locked me in a cave with a Big Ass Wolf.’_

Said Big Ass Wolf huffs through its nose angrily and paces at the opening of the cave, paws packing the well-worn dirt and giving Steve time to process what the hell is going on. He thinks back to the last thing he remembers before waking up here and his heart sinks. He lets out a pitiful groan without thinking, and regrets it instantly. The Big Ass Wolf swivels its head and ears sharply, glowing yellow eyes locking onto Steve’s form in the back of the cave.

Steve holds his breath and lets out a terrified, “well _shit_.”

__

Steve may or may not have pissed off a very powerful and very evil magic organization and gotten himself kidnapped, and yeah ok that sounds very serious, and like, a big mess and a lot of effort, but honestly it was an accident.

Mostly an accident anyways.

Sam’s gonna fucking kill him.

He was taking a nice, casual stroll through a local market, eyes flitting over the booths and what they had to offer, occasionally stopping to take a closer look or making broken conversation with the vendors. All in all, another day abroad. He started his adventure a few months prior, after graduating from college at the ripe old age of 26. Sam said it would be fun, to go out and do Young People Stuff, like backpack across Europe. Steve took his advice and spent weeks researching and gathering supplies for his trip. He took the cheapest, seediest, and worst flight ever across the pond and started his adventure in Prague. He visited other major cities but after a while that got boring, so he delved into the small towns and villages. He found the eastern countries the most interesting and welcoming. Many families opened their home to him and he would stay for weeks at a time, helping with chores or the land they owned. But he always moved on, never staying in one place for over a month.

Now he was taking a day to himself to explore the markets that this village had to offer. The village was quite an interesting one as their history was deeply rooted in magic, and almost everyone believed in faes and creatures, telling him to be wary and protect himself. The elderly couple he was staying with crafted him an iron trinket for safety before letting him leave the house. He thanked them immensely but laughed off their silly superstitions.

He would soon regret that.

The market stalls were full of mystery and intrigue; small children helped their parents sell fruits and vegetables; other, older women crafted handmade dolls that made little girls squeal with glee. Cloudy bottles and jars held murky liquids that shifted like they were alive and chimes tinkled from above Steve’s head. He had stopped to peruse some crystals and stones, smiling to the elderly couple running the stand. The man conversed with him casually about the benefits and energy of the objects Steve found interest in, the woman interjecting on occasion. He decided to purchase a piece of pink tourmaline carved into the shape of a wolf head; he slipped the crystal into his pocket as he handed over 37 leus and drifted back into the crowd.

The deeper he wandered into the market, the seedier the vendors got, children were nowhere to be seen and mangy dogs were tied with twine to posts. In the distance he saw a stall surrounded by many men, a red octopus with a skull head painted on the sign. One of the men was tightly gripping a women’s arm, sneering in her face as the others looked on smugly. The women’s face was the picture of fear, her eyes wide and lips trembling, sickly white skin shocking against her red hair. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked forward with a purpose, feet leaving imprints in the loose dirt. Heads turned as he approached the group, the small number of customers parting and then hurrying off when they saw the direction Steve was headed in.

“Hey!” He shouted when he was close enough to be heard, heads snapped in his direction and the man who was holding the woman turned to sneer at him.

“What?” The man growled in accented English, brandishing his teeth and scared face. The scars that marred his face looked like deep gouges made by something big with huge claws. One eye was cloudy white, signifying that he had lost his sight.

Steve puffed his chest, “let her go,” he demanded. The man laughed at him.

“Why would I do that? You stupid American,” the man snarled and yanked the woman closer. Steve saw red and stepped forward, swinging out blindly, his fist connecting the man’s nose. The bone shifted against his finger and he hissed as he pulled his hand back, shaking it. Ok maybe that wasn’t the best idea. The other man had released the woman’s arm in shock, and she darted off into the crowd. He growled at her retreating figure before turning back to Steve and balling his hands up, his nose trickled a little blood and Steve gulped nervously.

The last thing Steve remembered after the many men attacked him was the red-head returning with a knife and Fucking Shit Up. Steve smiled as he blacked out.

__

Back to the present and Steve is staring down the Big Ass Wolf, or rather, it’s staring him down. He thinks maybe if he stays still the wolf won’t see him, but this isn’t Jurassic Park and he is _so_ screwed. The wolf sniffs at the air, ears twitching as it slowly creeps towards Steve, and still growling low in its throat. It gets close enough that Steve was to crane his head up to look at it. The wolf is huge; Steve thinks that if he stood the wolf’s head would reach the bottom of his ribs. The fur on the wolf is thick and black, the paws are matted and covered in dirt, claws sharp and extended. Steve realizes he’s shaking like all hell and the wolf’s growl deepens as the blond whimpers. He tries not to hyperventilate as the wolf ducks its head down and presses a hot, wet nose to his neck. He can feel the whiskers on the wolf’s drawn back lips and ties not to think about those sharp teeth so close to his jugular. The wolf takes a few sniffs before blowing air out if its nose roughly and suddenly turning tail, stalking back to the opening of the cave. Steve is frozen in shock, silently thanking whoever is looking out for him.

It’s hours before the wolf returns and in this time Steve has allowed himself to move about a little, cry just a bit, and frantically try to dig his way to freedom before his fingertips bleed and he realizes the wolf would have done that already if it was possible. When the wolf does return, it is carrying a hunk of raw meat in its mouth. Steve stiffens in his position of reclining against the dirt wall and watches warily as the wolf approaches him and drops the chunk of meat at his calf and then backs away, sitting and staring at Steve, waiting. Steve looks at the wolf, scanning its body for any signs of aggression. His eyes trail over the torso and down to- oh, oh wow ok- ok so boy wolf, good to know. Steve’s cheeks heat up as he clears his throat awkwardly and shifts, sitting up a bit straighter. The wolf huffs a little bark and crouches down, nudging the slab of meat closer to Steve. For a moment the human is confused, before it dawns on him, he’s seen How to Train Your Dragon, he knows what’s going on here. He laughs nervously, smiling at the wolf, you know, like an idiot.

“Umm,” he mutters, reaching out to poke at the raw and bloody meat. On one hand he could die from eating raw meat, especially meat that has been in the mouth of a wolf and is currently on a dirt floor, or he could starve to death. The cramping in his stomach decides what he’s going to do for him, so he reached to retrieve the meat from the dirt. He turns it, trying to find an area that isn’t visibly dirty, he glances up to see the wolf looking at him expectantly, tail twitching as he licks his chops. Steve looks back to the meat and brings it to his face, slowly taking a bite and chewing quickly, keeping it off his tongue so that he doesn’t taste it or feel the texture. The wolf makes a satisfied noise and lies down, head resting on his huge paws, his eyes slip closed. Steve continues to tentatively eat his presented meal, as to not upset the wolf; any time he stops eating for too long the wolf will raise his head and look at him until he takes another bite. When he reaches the part that is completely covered in dirt and is unable to chew without feeling debris grind against his teeth he sets the rest on the ground near the wolf. The creature opens one eye to look at the meat and shifts forward, eating it in one bite.

More time passes, Steve staying in his corner of the cave while the wolf naps and gets up from time to time to wander about the cave. He can see the light shift as evening settles into darkness and it becomes impossible to see anything in the cave other than the occasional flash of yellow eyes. Steve attempts to stay awake, not wanting to let his guard down around such a threatening animal, but it soon become too difficult, and he slips to the ground and tells himself he’ll only rest his eyes for a little bit, just a little bit.

\--

Steve wakes to an odd feeling on his lower legs, something warm that spreads quickly and he opens his eyes groggily to see what it is. When his eyes clear he sees the wolf with his leg raised, pissing on him. The blond yelps and scoots away, dragging his pissed drenched pants in the dirt. “What the hell!” He exclaims, looking up furiously at the wolf. The wolf just lowers his leg and blinks as though nothing happened. Steve stares with his mouth gaping, in shock of what just happened and why he isn’t getting attacked for yelling. The wolf stares for a bit longer but then a noise sounds from the mouth of the cave and his ears flick towards the sound and then draw back. He raises his hackles and disappears around the corner and out of Steve’s sight. When the wolf is gone Steve sighs and wrinkles his nose at his pants in disgust, shuffling out of them as well as he can in his attempts to not get the rest of his legs dirty. He digs through the pockets and retrieves the iron trinket and wolf head. He snorts at the irony of the crystal and rubs it with his thumb like a worry stone, feeling the rough texture of detail and the smoother areas as well.

There’s the sound of voices outside the cave, speaking so that Steve cannot hear what they’re saying but can tell they aren’t happy. The sound of the wolf growling registers next and Steve stiffens, hoping that he’s still safe from the wolf’s temper. There’s yelling from the people outside the cave and the wolf lets out a series and cold sweat inducing barks. Steve can do nothing as he listens to the sounds of the angry wolf fighting whoever is outside the cave. The fight continues until the sounds fade, like the wolf has been taken from the cave. Steve waits.

Again hours pass, the wolf is gone through the night, when the sun rises he has still not returned. Some time later there is the sound of the cave door opening and closing, Steve perks up and waits for the wolf to trot back to him. But he never does. Steve sneaks forward to see that someone has left a gallon of water and a small portion of food. The blond darts forward and grabs the supplies, dragging it back to the end of the cave. Another day passes and Steve carefully rations his food and water, unsure of when he will get his next meal. He has also taken to stretching and moving around as much as he can, still healing from being beaten up. He hears the door open and close, but figures it must be his next meal, as there was no commotion that would indicate the wolf had returned. Steve turns to face the wall and places his hands above his head, leaning forward with his foot pressed against the wall to stretch his calf muscles. He’s so zoned out over the lack of food, sleep and water that he doesn’t notice the approaching footsteps until something presses firmly to his behind. He freezes as he feels hot air blow over his hole, he slowly turns his head to see the wolf is in fact back, and is pressing his snout up Steve’s ass. He goes to move away but the wolf grabs the fabric of Steve’s boxers and pulls, yanking them halfway down his thighs. Steve yelps and the wolf grumbles, sticking his cold nose between Steve’s ass cheeks. The blond gasps and wriggles but he has nowhere to go, pressed against the wall. Then the licking starts. He screeches when he feels the wolf’s hot tongue swipe over his hole. It happens again and again and Steve wills himself not to get an erection, refusing to find pleasure in the wolf licking him, even though it may feel good. He reaches around and bats a hand at the wolf, smacking it in the snout. The wolf lets out a warning bark and holds Steve’s hand in his mouth, not hurting, but not letting go. Steve takes the opportunity to spin around and hastily pull up his boxers with his other hand. He’s panting and staring wide-eyed at the wolf. The wolf only cocks his head in seemingly confusion, twisting Steve’s wrist as he holds the hand in his mouth. Steve hesitantly tugs on his hand, freeing his hand with the light scrape of canines over his palm.

He lets out a shaky breath, “Don’t do that!” He whispers sharply, running his hand down his face and waiting for his heart rate to regulate itself. The wolf whines and shifts his feet, moving to lick Steve’s hand, but the blond pulls away sharply. The wolf whines again and pressed his ears back against his skull, backing away a bit, sulking. Steve sighs and slides down the wall to sit, wishing his pants didn’t reek of wolf piss. He reaches over and drags the almost empty water bottle towards himself, popping off the lid and tilting it up to his mouth, blocking his view of the cave. When he pulls the water jug down the wolf is in his face again, panting, tongue lolling out to the side. “Umm,” Steve starts, “Do you want some?” The wolf doesn’t answer of course, just continues to pant. Steve rolls his eyes and tilts the water jug towards the wolf, letting a little water trickle out, the wolf catches on and tilts forward, pink tongue lapping noisily at the tepid water. Steve pours until the wolf has had his fill, and then recaps the jug. The dimming light in the cave signals the hour grows late and soon there won’t be a reason to stay awake. In the meantime Steve watches the wolf wander around the cave, sniffing about to see what he missed while away. He seems very interested in what Steve deemed The Piss Corner, spending extra time sniffing there and even licking the dirt. “Gross,” Steve whispers as the wolf rubs his face in it. The wolf perks up at his voice and looks at Steve expectantly, almost as if to say, _‘Yes?’_ “Nothing,” Steve responds, flipping his hand, then he stops when he realizes he’s talking to a wolf who can’t understand English. He shakes his head at his stupidity and decides to settle in for the night. There isn’t much he can do about the wolf, but at least it seems the animal won’t hurt him. He reclines against the wall with his arms folded, head tilting into a crevice that serves a pillow. And if while he’s drifting off he feels a weight settle in his lap, he doesn’t do anything about it.

__

When Steve wakes there’s a naked man, lying face down, with his face in Steve’s crotch. From what Steve can see, the man has long, brunet hair, which kicks back in loose waves around his shoulders. His ears are slightly pointy, and his nose slopes upwards into a triangular shape, like that of a cat. His eyebrows are thick and bushy, matching with the full, but short, beard than covers the man’s jaw and cheeks. Steve sits frozen with his hands raised in the air, trying to think of what to do. He scans his eyes over the man, and his eyes catch on his left shoulder where a star has been branded, like cattle, the flesh raised and angry, shiny and pink. Steve gasps at it, imagining how painful it must have been. The sound makes the sleeping man stir, his brows furrow and arms tighten where they’re wrapped around Steve, The man curls inwards, knees pulling up and he nuzzles his face into Steve’s dick, making a happy noise as he breathes deeply. Steve can’t help but jerk at the feeling, hot air now blowing through his boxers. The man makes a low growl in his throat, sounding like the wolf, and it sends chills up Steve’s spine. Steve makes a distressed sound that seems to finally wake the man, because he bolts upright and stares Steve down. Steve looks at the man and gasps; he has yellow eyes, like the wolf. The man pulls back his lips to show his teeth- and, oh my god those are fangs- in what Steve can only hope is an attempt of a smile, though it looks like a sneer. Steve smiles back nervously, hands still raised in the air.

“Um, hi,” he says, voice cracking from disuse, so he clears his throat in embarrassment. The man cocks his head to the side and squints at Steve. He blond slowly lowers his hands and the man’s eyes dart to follow them. “I’m Steve,” he continues warily, hoping to get a response.

“Steve,” the man says, voice deep and gravely, as though he has not spoken much in years, and is lightly accented.

“Yeah, Steve,” the blond repeats encouragingly, maybe he’ll get a name in exchange.

“Steve,” the man declares and nods sharply, “pup.” Now it’s Steve’s turn to be confused.

“Pup?” He asks confused. “I’m not a pup, I’m a person,” he tells the man.

The man’s eyes light up, “mate,” he declares. He seems very happy with this and scoots forward, getting into Steve’s personal space. Steve leans back as much as he can and speaks.

“How about friend?” He proposes, smiling tightly at the man. The man seems a bit disappointed and sighs but confirms it, in a way at least.

“Pack,” he decides, still staying close to Steve and staring at him. Steve just nods and looks around the cave, but there is no sign of the wolf.

“Do you, um, do you know where the wolf is?” He asks the man, figuring he can still have a conversation with one word responses. The man just leans back and “smiles” again, looking prideful and smug. Steve puts two and two together. “You’re the wolf?” He guesses and the man- wolf, whatever he is- nods his confirmation. The blond sighs and asks another question, “Do you have a name?” The man tilts his head, but stays silent. “I’ll take that as a no,” he whispers, thinking about what he could call this man. “The big bad wolf,” he murmurs humorlessly, and then it hits him. “Bigby!” He exclaims, causing the man to reel back in surprise. “Bigby, like the big bad wolf, Big B, Bigby,” he tells the man, happy at his own cleverness. The wolf is not as impressed, he narrows his eyes and growls a little, sending a clear message of, ‘No’. Steve is quick to backtrack, “Ok no Bigby, umm, what about,” he pauses, “Bucky?” The growling stops and the man considers for a moment before huffing and nodding.

“Bucky,” the man says, and then he looks at Steve, “Steve.”

“Yeah, I’m Steve, and you’re Bucky,” Steve tells him, hoping that this is settled now. The man, _Bucky_ , looks pleased and stands, stretching his limbs out and yawning so wide his jaw cracks. Steve can’t help but notice he’s still naked. Hot blush spreads across his face and he averts his gaze to his ruined pants in the corner. He gets up to retrieve them from the ground, shaking them out before turning back to Bucky. “Can you? Put these on? Please?” he asks. Bucky frowns and puts his hands on his hips, looking at the pants. He looks at Steve and then back at the pants, and then back at Steve again. Steve sighs and thrusts the pants towards Bucky, hoping he’ll take the hint. Bucky gingerly grabs the pants from Steve and the blond notices the sharp claws that take the place of fingernails. Bucky brings the pants to his face and then suddenly rips one of the legs, tearing it right above where he had ruined it days earlier. He does the same to the other leg and then slowly puts them on, stumbling a bit before standing straight. He gives Steve a look that says, _‘There, happy now?’_ “Yes, thank you,” Steve answers sarcastically, making Bucky grin, fangs poking out.

Steve sighs and opens his mouth to speak but it cut off by a clanging at the mouth of the cave, Bucky’s head whips around sharply and he starts to growl, eye glowing and fangs growing longer. He turns his back to Steve and walks backwards, herding the blond against the wall. Bucky’s claws dig into the dirt on either side of Steve’s body, barricading him behind the other man’s body. A minute or two passes, the whole time Bucky growls, but there are no other sounds and no one appears around the bend. The growling doesn’t cease but Bucky begins to extract himself from the wall, walking gingerly across the floor. Steve makes to follow him, tiptoeing after the man, but is quickly stopped. Bucky twists around and shoves Steve to the wall, jaws clamping around his throat lightly, claiming superiority.

“Ok,” Steve whispers shakily, resisting the urge to tremble as he feels Bucky’s growls vibrate his throat as his teeth leave sharp points of pressure. They stay like that until Bucky seems sure that Steve will not follow, and he releases the man before stalking off into the cave. The blond lets out a shuddering sigh and slides down the way, letting his quaking knees have a break. Bucky soon returns with another bundle of food and water jug, looking extremely pleased with himself. He plops his find down at Steve’s feet and sits next to it, doing the sneer-smile again.

“Kill,” Bucky declares, “for Steve.” He nudges the food towards Steve, urging him to eat it. The blond obliges and grabs a piece of jerky from the pile, pulling it roughly with his teeth to make a manageable bite. Bucky continues to watch him, making sure he eats enough. When Steve convinces Bucky that he can eat no longer the brunet digs in, ravishing the stash. Steve tries to keep the surprise off his face but it’s quite shocking to see this man eat like a, well, wild animal. When Bucky has finished he makes Steve drink a fair bit of water, pouring it into the blonde’s mouth eagerly and spilling quite a bit on his chest. When Bucky finishes his own drink he takes the haul over to the other wall and starts digging, submerging most of the food and water in dirt. He saunters back over and once again sits in front of Steve, staring at him intensely.

“What are you?” The blond whispers, hoping that if Bucky can’t hear him he won’t answer, but of course he does.

“Vârcolac,” Bucky rumbles in response, the name ringing familiar in Steve’s mind. The townsfolk told stories of Baubau, uniila, moroi, zâna, Vântose, and of course, _the Vârcolac_. Steve figured these were just stories to keep children from wandering into the woods or to keep them inside at night. But here, in this cave, with Bucky, he can no longer believe these are just stories.

Steve stares into Bucky’s yellow eyes, “werewolf,” he says. The brunet stares at him for a long time before speaking in that guttural tongue, the one that stirs something inside Steve.

“Monster,” he starts, easing to all fours and crawling towards Steve. “Dog, pet, It, The Beast, Asset.” He’s in Steve’s face now, each word blowing hot breath over his face. He watches as the canines elongate, sharpen; Bucky’s eyes glow with burning rage. “The Soldier.” The growl that births itself on the last word makes Steve’s heart stutter. The organ is sinking itself with a chain and cinder block to the deep, dark depths where it’s freezing cold and nothing lives. Eyes lock, smoldering gold and trembling blue, they mix to a fouled green, like that of a rotted tree. Then the wolf is gone, like the wind, between one breath and the next.

Minutes pass as Steve sits there alone, frozen in fear all but his trembling hands. The blood rushes harshly through his body, cold and stinging as sweat coats his skin. He cannot breathe, like someone is pushing at his windpipe from both sides, not enough to suffocate, but enough to cause unmeasurable pain. When he can muster the courage he scrambles for the wolf head he’s kept hidden is the wall. His fingers run over it harshly, seeking comfort. Somewhere in his head he hears the scarred man laugh, _‘Nothing can protect you now.’_

\--

In the following days Steve and the wolf- he can’t call him Bucky anymore, he never gets the chance- develop a system of coexistence. The wolf stays at the mouth of the cave, only venturing to the back to give Steve food and water. They don’t speak, they don’t touch, hell they hardly even look at one another. Some days he is a wolf, other days he’s human, but no matter what form, he is a solid presence that invades Steve’s thoughts and dreams. Steve wakes some night, panting and hot, dry heaving as tears wet his face. He never remembers the nightmares, only those yellow eyes and cries of the wolf.

__

Steve is scratching a face into the dirt floor when the wolf arrives. He is human and covered in armor, leather straps and black kevlar constrict his body. Black goggles that look like bug eyes cover the glowing embers, below them, a muzzle. Steve is suddenly filled with rage, because they’ve put a muzzle on him. He may not be fully human but he- Bucky he makes himself think- is still a man. Steve thinks of Shakespeare, what’s in a name indeed. Does a man by any other name grow such sharp teeth? Bucky’s head is turned towards the drawing on the floor, so Steve assumes that’s what he’s referring to when he rasps, “Who?”

“My mother,” Steve replies, “Sarah.” “Sarah,” Bucky grunts, then looks at Steve and walks forward delicately, avoiding the drawing with careful feet. He rests a clawed hand on Steve’s head, pressing down so that the blond won’t look up. “Stay,” he demands, but his voice sounds desperate and weary, scared. Before Steve can respond he turns and walks away, still careful to step around the portrait.

When he returns, wounds gaping, the red blood drips into her eyes and run like tears.

__

They wake up like puppies, piled upon each other, protecting; but now Bucky is a wolf. The armor was discarded the night before. Steve was fretting and pouring water on the wounds and shushing Bucky as the man dug bullets from his flesh with sharpened claws. He shifted into his wolf form after assuring Steve it would make him heal faster. He turned to go and, quite literally, lick his wounds but Steve stopped him with a handful of fur at his scruff. This time he was the one who said stay.

Steve wakes to a facefull of fur, his face nuzzled into soft area right after the end of Bucky’s ribs. It was the only place that hadn’t been painful to apply pressure to and Steve prayed he wouldn’t shift in the night and wake up to a pissed off wolf. Said wolf was not even awake, still breathing deep and easy, head draped on Steve’s legs. Steve laughed lightly to himself, what the picture they made, yin and yang. The blond stays as he is, stretching his limbs in tiny increments, but mostly gazing Bucky as he sleeps. He smiles softly at the small wiggles of Bucky’s wet nose, and how his eyes move behind his eyelids. Steve allows himself to doze, closing his eyes, but not quite sleeping. After some time he feels Bucky shift and cracks open his eyes in time to see the wolf yawn, chops pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. When he finishes he starts to pants lightly, tongue poking out the tiniest bit, it’s honestly quite cute. He turns to give Steve a wolf smile and licks the blond’s leg affectionately.

“Yeah bud,” Steve says between the warm rasps of Bucky’s tongue, “I’m glad you’re back too.”


	2. Smoke and Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky grow closer, only to have it fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i saw IW, yes i am heartbroken. however i like to believe they're all on an island somewhere having a great vacation LIKE THEY DESERVE . also i realized i should have made bucky white and not black but this was written before blank panther came out sooooo.  
> translations at the end.

The following weeks see the two men growing close, often sleeping in a pile of limbs and always sharing meals. Bucky seems more comfortable as a wolf, which is fine by Steve, since it’s easier not to talk. Steve discovers that Bucky finds him drawing to be a very serious event, worthy of all his attention. One evening after their dinner, Steve is mindlessly practicing perspective using a rock as the vanishing point, and he notices that Bucky is sitting behind him, head poked curiously over his shoulder.  He doesn’t pay the wolf much mind and goes back to drawing, but now putting a bit more effort in. When he decides to retire for the night and stops dragging his fingers through the dirt, Bucky lets out a pitiful whine and shifts his paws unhappily. Steve snorts his amusement and turns to look at Bucky, who’s giving him sad puppy eyes.

“It’s bedtime Buck-o,” he announces to the pouting canine. “I’ll draw more tomorrow, I promise.” Bucky pants happily at that and herds Steve into their sleeping corner so he can curl around him, bleeding warmth into Steve’s bones. 

That night began the daily ritual of Steve setting time aside to draw for Bucky, whenever the man wanted him to. When he was a wolf he was happy just sitting and watching, but as a human he was full of questions, even if he didn’t know how to ask them. He would simply point to what he wanted to know about and look at Steve expectantly, listening attentively as the blond rattled off information. When Bucky would leave for days at a time - on “missions” as he told Steve - he made sure to bring back gifts. It started small, like sticks for finer details, then a pencil, and after that a scrap of paper. Steve hoarded them like a packrat, torn between making art for Bucky or writing an S.O.S. letter. When Bucky noticed that Steve wasn’t using his paper and pencil, he threw a fit. He growled and put the gifts into Steve’s hands, sitting in front of him like a statue and crossing his arms.

“Draw,” he demands, yellow eyes glowing in frustration. Steve sighs defeatedly and obliges him, drawing a small and simple sketch of the sleeping brunett, in wolf form. Bucky watches closely the whole time, a small smile on his lips. When Steve finishes he hands the paper to Bucky so he can shove it close to his face like he usually does, only this time the man lets out a whine. “Not done,” he declares, pushing the paper back at the blond. 

Steve looks down at the drawing, trying to figure out what he was missing. He hadn’t forgotten to draw an ear like that one time when Bucky woke him up in the middle of the night after returning from a mission. He couldn’t figure out what could possibly be wrong with the drawing, he looks back up at Bucky. “What’s missing?” 

Bucky just rolls his eyes- a skill Steve regretted teaching him- and looks the blond in the eyes. “You.” 

\--

Later that night something wakes him, Steve blinks his eyes and feels the familiar weight of Bucky’s human form draped over him. The lighting indicates that it’s early morning, perhaps just before sunrise. Suddenly it becomes apparent what woke him.

Atop him, Bucky shifts, making pleased grumbles and buries his chilled nose into Steve’s neck. Then his hips move. Oh  _ God _ . Steve’s face erupts into flames, his whole body going hot with shame as he feels Bucky’s frankly  _ enormous  _ hard cock drag along his hip. It seems that his half canine companion is having a very pleasurable dream, and is taking it out on Steve. Steve has experienced this before, when he and Sam would share a bed after a drunken night on the town. One of them would wake from a boner pressed against the other, they would either be woken by the recipient of a hard dick to the back, or wake on their own. What followed was always light teasing, usually Sam proclaiming that he couldn’t help how attractive he was. But this, this is something new entirely. How does one wake their werewolf….. _ friend?....roomate? _ ...from an erotic dream and live to tell the tale. Steve learned not to wake Bucky from his nightmare unless he wanted a claw too close for comfort to the eye, or a set of teeth clamped about his throat. 

Does he wake Bucky up? Should he call his name? Move around until he woke? Thinking through his options, Bucky ruts against him again, picking up speed. The blond lets out a whimper and slams his head down into the dirt. Maybe if he gives himself a concussion he won’t remember this. Bucky only ruts harder in response to the sound, and makes one himself that sounds a lot like “Steve.” 

Steve takes a deep breath and tries his luck, “Bucky?” It comes out high pitched a breathy, making him cringe. In response Bucky rumbles something in his mother tongue.

“ _ Imi apartii _ ,” he sounds happy and possessive, arms tightening around the man under him. Steve wracks his brain for something to say, trying to ignore how good Bucky’s hot weight feels against him. The brunett has started to pant, the hot breath sending thrills through Steve, and the blond can feel his body responding to the friction. Now might be a good time to mention that Bucky refuses to sleep with pants on. At first Steve thought it was an attempt to secure his role as the most masculine, as he used every opportunity possible to have his dick out for Steve to see. After awhile Steve figured out it was just because he just hated wearing clothes of any kind, especially pants. However if Bucky caught Steve without clothes on he freaked out, shoving Steve into his dirty uniform, insisting that Steve was too cold without fur to keep him warm. When it came to bed though, Steve persuaded Bucky to let him sleep in just boxers, as it was too hot for full clothes with Bucky running hot like a heater. 

So this is how Steve ended up under a naked, horny werewolf in just his boxers. 

The Lord is testing him. 

He can’t believe he’s actually hoping Bucky will come soon, just so he can get this over with. The feeling of Bucky’s cock leaking precome onto his thigh isn’t helping at all, so he tries to think of things to will away his erection.  _ Those guys beating you up, baseball stats, Sam drunk as hell and throwing up in an alley.  _ It doesn’t work. Steve just gives up and accepts his fate, trying not to moan at the hot arousal coiling in his stomach. Above him, Bucky stiffens, his muscles tightening like cables as he presses down hard against Steve, giving three sharp, hard thrusts before ejaculating all over Steve’s stomach. Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Bucky slips into deeper sleep, muscles relaxing and full body weight dropping onto the blond. 

Steve lies awake, mortified for the next hour or so, trying not to think about the come that’s currently being absorbed by his skin. How is supposed to act when Bucky wakes up? Surely the other man will remember his dream, he usually does, days after nightmares he’s either skittish, aggressive, or overprotective. Before he can make a proper game plan, Bucky wakes up. 

The wolf takes a deep inhale and lets it out as he stretches out his limbs, sighing happily. He picks up his head from where it was buried in Steve’s neck and smiles sleepily at the blond, yellow eyes closed and fangs poking out. “Good morning,” he rumbles in that deep, sleep rough voice. Steve had taught him basic greetings and pleasantries, and it’s times like this where Bucky is just too damn domestic. 

“Hi,” Steve responds nervously, eyes following the other man as he rolls off Steve and stands, scratching at his stomach sleepily. He turns away to take his morning piss in the corner and Steve hastily rubs the come off of himself the best he can. Bucky looks over his shoulder at the noise he makes, causing Steve to shoot him a panicked smile. The other man just smiles back happily and waves, like a cute dofus. Steve buries his face in his hands and groans. 

\--

Bucky decides that today is a lazy day, and what Bucky wants, Bucky gets. Steve isn’t going to fight with a werewolf over the fact that he just wants to lay around all day. Even if that lying is on top of him. Bucky is currently draped dramatically over his crossed legs, arm tossed over his eyes like a swooning maiden. He also keeps sniffing Steve which…..yeah let’s not talk about that. Steve burns red every time he does and hit the brunett in the face on accident when said man licked his stomach. Luckily the wolf didn’t take offence, just pouted and stuck his fangs out before settling back down. He’s too cute.

Which brings us to Steve’s current dilemma, he _ reeeeally _ needs to pee. This wouldn’t be an issue if Bucky was in any way normal. To someone who was kinda sane he could say, “Hey I need to pee, let me up.” But not to Bucky. Because Bucky has a strange fascination, obsession really, with Steve’s dick. The blond constantly has to take a piss when the other isn’t paying attention or else he’ll follow Steve over to The Piss Corner and….watch. It’s….so strange. 

Bucky is truly an enigma, Steve can’t think of any person, or combination of people that would make anyone even similar to Bucky. But then again, the man is a werewolf, so he guesses that comes with the territory. 

Anyways.

Struck with inspiration, Steve gently jostles the man in his lap to get his attention. Bucky uncovers his eyes and lifts a questioning eyebrow. If there’s one thing Bucky loves more than trying to get a peak at Steve’s dick, it was providing for Steve. 

“Bucky, I’m really thirsty, could you-,” before he can even finish the fake request the brunett is up and rushing to the mouth of the cave, probably to harass their captors until he got what he deemed fit for Steve. The blond stood quickly, knowing he was on a limited time allotment. The blood rushed to his head and he had to throw a hand out against the wall before he fell over. Maybe he really did need that water. 

He shuffled over to The Piss Corner and peaked out into the cave, making sure Bucky wasn’t back yet. When he finished taking a leak he tucked himself back into his boxers. Looking down at his legs, he sighed in disgust. He hadn’t showered in weeks, he was covered in dirt and felt all over gross. He wondered briefly if he could ask Bucky for a bath. Knowing that man’s determination, he would make it happen. 

He was just getting settled back where he and Bucky were lounging when said man poked his head around the corner of the cave. Seeing that the blond was where he left him, he nodded curtly and pointed at Steve with a long claw, “stay.” And with that he disappeared again. As curious as he was, Steve wasn’t going to defy a direct order, he wasn’t  _ that _ stupid. 

Steve sits and waits, tracing patterns in the dirt, only looking up when Bucky returns to make sure Steve is still where he’s supposed to be. On one of the visits Steve waves at Bucky, and the brunett gets this look on his face that can only be described as moonly. He stands there smiling dazed until he hears a noise and scampers back out of sight. Steve just laughs lightly and shakes his head. There really isn’t shit to do in this cave and he hopes Bucky gets back soon, he’s Steve only source of stimulation. Right on cue, the man come waddling around the corner, weighed down by so many blankets and supplies Steve can’t even see his face. 

Bucky drops the haul at Steve’s feet, sending loose dirt flying and causing Steve to flinch away from the dust. When he glances up at the other man, he’s smiling the happiest smile ever. His fangs are on full display but instead of looking threatening he looks adorable, nose scrunched up and crinkles by his eyes. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, reaching out to dig through the blankets. 

“Nest,” Bucky announces, “for Steve.”

Steve flushes, “oh,” he says, “thank you.”

“Anything for my _ iubi _ .” He sounds wistful but also immensely proud. “I take good care of Steve.” Said blond looks up to see Bucky nervously awaiting his approval. 

“Oh, uh yes, yeah. Yeah, you take real good care of me. Thanks Buck,” Steve blabbers. That seems to do the trick because Bucky immediately gets to work, crouching down and dragging blankets across the floor. When he approached where they usually sleep he turns to glare at Steve. 

“No looking,” he says sternly, covering his eyes with his hands to demonstrate, as if Steve is two. 

“Well what do you want me to do?” Steve asks, he can’t just sit around and wait for Bucky to decide he can look at whatever he’s doing. The brunett considers this for a moment, cocking his head to the side. 

“Draw me a picture,” he finally decided, looking happy with himself. Steve just snorts and rolls his eyes, he’s spoiled this man. Regardless, he starts to smooth out the dirt, but Bucky interrupts him. “No,” he says in a deprecating way, “with this.” He shoves a sketchbook and pencil in Steve’s face. 

“Holy shit Buck!” Steve is  _ shooketh _ \- (yes I said shooketh, sue me)- where the hell did Bucky get a sketchbook? Especially one with a hard cover and wire binding? 

“It is good, yes?” There he goes again, desperate for approval. 

Steve looks at him wide eyed and exhales, “yeah, yeah it’s great. Amazing, actually. How did you get this?” 

Bucky gets that moony look in his eyes again, “anything for my  _ iubi _ .” He turns away back to the pile and Steve takes that as his cue to draw. He opens the page and marvels as the quality, running his fingers over the slightly textured pages. He smiles at the perforated binding, imagining Bucky carefully ripping out a page and putting it on a fridge like a proud mom. The image makes him laugh so he decides to draw it. Bucky may not find it funny because he’s never seen a fridge but he’ll still appreciate it.

Steve decides to go with a more cartoonish style, soft lines and over exaggerated elements. He’s adding some alphabet letter magnets to the fridge for extra giggles when a shadow casts over his page. He looks up to see Bucky grinning with his fangs on full display. He has his hands on his hips like a dad after mowing a lawn; way too proud for accomplishing such a simple task.

“I’m guessing it’s done,” Steve teases, a small smile gracing his lips as well. The brunett nods so fast he looks like a bobble head, and reaches down to haul Steve up by his wrists. The blond barely has time to close and put the sketchbook on the ground before he’s hauled across the floor. Steve laughs at Bucky’s enthusiasm but his breath catches in his throat when he sees what Bucky has built. Tons on blankets line the floor and pillows create a border around them, as well as cushioning the wall. Bucky has somehow fashioned a roof out of sticks and….binder clips? And a blanket drapes over that as well. In his mind’s eye Steve can see fairy likes surrounding them both as they drink warm tea and snuggle. 

Wait. What? 

Steve blinks rapidly and tries to decipher where that thought came from. Sure, Bucky is ridiculously attractive and Steve is bi af so that’s not the problem. The problem is that Bucky’s also a fucking wolf. 

Like, a huge ass wolf, who kills people. And maybe eats them, who knows. 

Before he can think any further on this matter, Bucky is pulling him into the nest and sitting Steve on his lap. The blond blushes as he settles his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. “Uh,” he says intelligently. Bucky just gives him a dopey smile and hugs him closer. Steve makes a sound like he’s choking on an ice cube, you know the sound, we’ve all done it. “How’d you get all this stuff?” He figures that’s a safe question. 

“I asked,” Bucky replies, awe, how sweet. “And if they didn’t provide I said I’d rip their throats out.” Oop, never mind. 

Steve wants to fall out, oh my God. 

He kind of just stares at Bucky in a state of shock, disappointment, and a little bit of  _ ‘Eh, that figures’ _ . Bucky, of course, is still smiling. “You like? A good nest for my _iubi_ , right?” Steve’s heart melts. 

“Yeah it’s great, thank you. I can’t wait to sleep in here.” That makes Bucky ecstatic, clawed hands flying up to smush Steve’s face. He leans in like he’s going to kiss the blond when there’s a crash somewhere in the cave. Both their heads whip around towards the direction of the sound, and Bucky’s muscles go taut. He easies Steve off his lap and tucks him into a corner, creeping out of the nest slowly. When he’s out he turns back to give Steve a stern look. 

“Stay.” Steve nods, too scared for anything else. A few moments later there is the sound of voices speaking in Bucky’s mother tongue, one commanding and the other aggressive. Steve can’t tell who’s who, not hearing Bucky speak something other than English to know his voice. The talking gets louder until the two men are yelling, causing Steve to flinch. A low growl echoes through the cave, making goosebumps rise all over Steve’s skin. Someone says something and the growling stops. Steve listens hard for another noise but there is none. Just when he’s about to crawl out of the nest a man who isn’t Bucky appears.

It’s the man with the scared face from before, and he’s smiling deviously at Steve. Steve’s hackles rise, blood burning hot under his skin. “Your little puppy gave you up,” he says, words thick with an accent. The mocking tone only serves to annoy the blond more, if he wasn’t scared about what would happen to Bucky he’d yell back. “Told It we’d be real careful with you, treat you nice and good. It’s real fond of you,” the man sneers. “Do you let It fuck you?” 

That sets Steve off, he lunges forward out of the nest, making the roof collapse. The man falls to the ground as Steve land on him, but the victory is short lived. Suddenly Steve find himself face first in the dirt as the man flips him over and twist his arms around his back. Steve groans as the man applies pressure, wrists feeling like they’re on the verge of breaking. 

“That’s right you little bitch,” the man grits out, and stands up, taking Steve with him. “Now come on, gotta clean you up.” Steve reluctantly lets the man drag him towards the exit, figuring he should save his energy if something really bad were to happen. 

On the way out, they pass Bucky, who is like Steve has never seen before. His claws at long, as well as his fangs, and fur and sprouted all over his body. He’s pacing the floor, claws digging into the dirt and pulling it up. At the sound of Steve’s approach, his head snaps up and he lets out a sound that is both a whine and a growl. His glowing eyes flit back and forth from Steve and the man, seeming lost on who to look at. 

“Bucky,” his eyes jerk to Steve, and he looks anguished. 

“It’s okay my  _ iubi _ ,” he sounds like he doesn’t believe himself, “they will not hurt you. They’ll bring you back to me.” Steve watches the desperation on Bucky’s face a yearns for him. That poor man, having his only comfort ripped away from him. Steve has no doubt that he is about to die, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go out with a fight. 

“Yeah Buck, I’ll be back in time for us to sleep in the nest,” the man holding him snorts and Steve tries his best to ignore it. Then he’s being pulled away and his heart sinks and stings, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing come out. He and Bucky only stare at each other as they’re pulled apart. 

—

Rumlow, as Steve learns his name is, is a huge dick. But, that’s like, a given. No but really, huge dick, and not in the good way. 

Steve’s roughly stripped out of his tatters of clothes by the man and then shoved into what looks like a prison showering room. Only there are no shower heads, only a tiled floor, drains, and a lady with a hose. 

She’s wearing a uniform that says HYDRA and is looking bored as she tosses a bar of soap up and down. Steve stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, covering his privates to conserve what little dignity he has left. The woman stares at him disinterestedly and tosses the soap at him. He fumbles to catch it and is then being blasted with a hose possibly as powerful of that on a fire truck. He yelps at the stinging pressure but begins to scrub at his skin anyways, a shower is a shower after all. 

The water turns off once he’s thoroughly soaked and Steve takes his time scrubbing at all the caked on blood and dirt. Brown and grey soap slides down his body and towards the drain, making the floor bleed with color. Just as he’s about to move on to his hair, the hose turns on again, only this time all the pressure is directed at his dick. He grunts at the pain and tries not to double over, looking at the woman in shock. 

“Hurry up,” she says with a blank face, and when Steve makes no indication of moving, she looked him right in the eyes and blasts his face. He washes pretty quickly after that. 

After being roughly dried with a threadbare towel and shoved into some itchy and stiff clothes, Steve was carved off to the good ole Torture Cent- I mean Medical Suite.

Rumlow is there waiting for him with that devilish smile on his lips. He dramatically snaps a pair of latex gloves on like a TV doctor and pats the exam table with his blue hand. 

“Come take a load off Captain, or should I call you Private? Which one of you is in charge in that cute little relationship?” He’s then strapped down to the bed and watches out of the corner of his eye as Rumlow wanders over to a metal rolling tray and grabs an array of syringes. The man comes back over, humming a tune and bopping his head like he’s a loveable and quirky doctor. He looks down at Steve and smiles over dramatically, “now don’t you worry Cap, this won’t hurt a bit.” And with that said he stabs a needle into Steve’s bicep and shushes him like a baby as the blond screams. “Oh, I’m so sorry, my hand must have slipped, there there.” 

Steve grits his teeth and takes ragged breaths, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. The injection site burns like frostbite through his veins, and despite his best efforts, he passes out after three more needles. 

—

The ground beneath him would be soft if not for his over sensitive skin, and his clothes felt like they were rubbing him raw. Something hot and wet strikes over his face, and he flinched away at the pain, curling up into a ball and panting. Steve was so hot his could feel his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and the feeling was worse than all the fevers he’d had as a sickly child combined. 

There was a night whine to his right, and he groans at the sound, knowing who it was and that he’d have to open his eyes soon. Steve forced his eyes open slowly, letting the light filter in and sting. Bucky moves to block some of it from his face and Steve gruntes in appreciation. What the hell did they put in him? His whole body burns and aches, and the injection sites are swollen red. Bucky, in his wolf form, shuffles his feet and whines again, this time quieter for Steve’s sensitive ears. Steve pats a hand across the blankets until he finds a paw and pats it, trying to comfort the animal. 

“‘S’ok,” the blonde slurs, turning his head but then regretting it immediately. The action feels like someone had filled his head with water and was shaking it like a snowglobe. His vision shakes like a boat on rough seas and he lets out a whimper of his own. Bucky makes a pitiful sound of his own and hunkers down next to the other man, snout pressed against Steve’s neck. The coldness of his nose feels good on Steve’s over headed skin, so he hums in appreciation. “Good boy,” he mumbles, and lets his heavy eyes close. Maybe a nap would do him good. Yeah, a nap sounds real good. He tells this to Bucky, “m’gonna sleep. But don’ worry. ‘mma be riiiiiiiight back.” The end fades off as he loses the energy to speak. Sleep greets Steve with open arms and he lets her soothe away his pains. 

When Steve wakes up the second time he feels  _ way _ better. Suspiciously better, actually. He blinks and rubs his eyes, wincing at the crust that scratches his skin. Bucky isn’t anywhere to be seen, which is surprising because Steve figured the man wouldn’t leave his side. He sits up and gets one hell of a head rush and it hits him like a bus how _ fucking hungry  _ he is. The loud and scary sounds coming from his stomach second that epiphany, so Steve crawls on his hands and knees out of the nest. Bucky is still nowhere in sight, but at the light is dim enough that his eyes don’t hurt. Steve hopes they didn’t inject him with some weird shit that will turn him into a werewolf, that would just be too predictable. 

Steve spots a water jug a few feet and urges is body to move as he crawls towards it. He pops off the cap and chugs the room temperature liquid, he’d much rather it be cold but beggars can’t be choosers. He sets the water back down when he’s finished and smacks his lips a few times, trying to moisten his dry mouth. He’s about to start his search for food when he hears the door open and close, and he smiles to himself. He’s missed Bucky dearly, especially since he thought he was going to die, and he doesn’t doubt the other man feels the same way. He concedes to stay seated where he is and wait for Bucky’s arrival. 

It doesn’t take long for the other man to make himself known, as when he rounds the corner he’s carrying two crates that block his vision. Bucky peeks his head around the crate, presumily to see where he’s going, but freezes when he sees the blonde. Steve smiles, alibet a bit nervously, as he was expecting Bucky to be happy, not shocked. He’s about to open his mouth and say something but he never does, because all of sudden Bucky’s dropping the crates and running towards Steve. When he’s close enough, the brunett lunges at Steve and tackles him to the ground, making the blond laugh in delight. Bucky has his face buried in Steve’s neck and is wiggling atop him like an excited puppy that can’t stay still. Steve just smiles and throws his arms around Bucky’s neck, letting the brunett do whatever he wants. There’s no doubt this experience was extremely stressing to Bucky as well as Steve, and the blond will give this man whatever he needs to make it better. 

Steve realizes that Bucky is mumbling into his skin, “ _ Oh draga mea, băiatul meu dulce. Te-au luat, te-au luat și te-au rănit. Ai fost mort, mi-au spus că ești mort. Soarele meu dulce, iubi meu, ești în viață. Le voi ucide pe toți. Nu te vor mai atinge niciodată, îți jur. Te voi păstra în siguranță, nu mă vei lăsa din nou. Te voi păstra iubi. Pentru totdeauna. _ ”

He sounds so stressed and anxious that Steve just wants to hold him until the world disappears. Instead he just holds on tighter and prays everything will be ok. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Imi apartii - You belong to me.  
> Iubi - Love  
> Oh draga mea, băiatul meu dulce. Te-au luat, te-au luat și te-au rănit. Ai fost mort, mi-au spus că ești mort. Soarele meu dulce, iubi meu, ești în viață. Le voi ucide pe toți. Nu te vor mai atinge niciodată, îți jur. Te voi păstra în siguranță, nu mă vei lăsa din nou. Te voi păstra iubi. Pentru totdeauna. - Oh dear, my sweet boy. They took you, they took you and they hurt you. You were dead, they told me you were dead. My sweet sun, my love, you're alive. I will kill them all. They will never touch you again, I swear to you. I will keep you safe, you will not leave me again. I will keep you loved. Forever.
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, nothing at all, whatever you want!


	3. A Crooked Mile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tires to court Steve, Steve doesn't understand werewolf mating rituals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please read the notes at the end, i would put them here but there at would be spoilers. translations at the end as usual.

“What happened?” Steve asks later, after Bucky has stuffed him full of food and checked him over many times, until he passed inspection.

Bucky just grunts, pulling Steve closer to his chest, instead of answering. The wolf has refused to leave his side, demanding that they always be touching, and surprisingly, Steve doesn’t mind. Even when he has to go pee.

“Bucky,” Steve apprises. Bucky takes a dramatic breath and lets it out in a peevish way.

“They made me. They had a mission and I said no, can’t leave Steve. But they said they’d take us apart, I would never see you again. I told them I would go, but only if they take care of you, clean you and make you healthy,” Bucky sounds so guilty, he blames himself for what happened, that much is clear. Steve reaches his hand up to cradle Bucky’s face, lightly rubbing his fingers over the man’s cheekbones.

Steve reassures him, “It’s ok Buck, I don’t blame you. Can you tell me more?”

Bucky just nods and closes his eyes, pressing more into Steve’s hand. “I was gone a few days. I got back and they said,” he pauses and takes a shuddering breath, squeezing Steve hard. “They said you were dead,” his whisper is broken and distraught, and Steve feels his heart sink. “Said it was my fault, I didn’t take care of you. You weren’t healthy enough, I wasn’t a good _pereche_. I killed you.” Steve can’t imagine how awful that must have been for Bucky, the man had never known anything other than pain and suffering before Steve came along. The one thing good in his life he bargained away so that it would be safe, only to return and be told it was gone forever, that it was his fault.

“I don’t remember what I did, I…...I think I killed some. They had taken you, I was never going to see you again and it was all my fault.”

“Bucky no, it wasn’t your fault. You were taking care of me, like you always do. I’m so grateful for that. You take such good care of me, you always do. You are a good _pereche_ ,” Steve attempts to mimic the word Bucky had just said. He guesses he did ok because it makes the other man smile wetly. “Thank you,” Steve tries to smooth Bucky but the man seems on the verge of tears, and that scares Steve. He’s never seen Bucky show any kind of negative emotion, he hides it behind a blank face, locked down tight.

Bucky shakes his head and hides his face under Steve’s chin, as his body shakes a bit. “We can stop,” Steve tells him, “you can finish later. I’m here now, you can have me as long as you want.”

“ _Pentru totdeauna,_ ” the brunett says.

“Yeah Buck, whatever you say.”

\--

The next few days the men don’t do anything by lie around, sleeping most of their time away and always cuddling. Steve doesn’t mind, he actually quite likes it, and if he finds himself staring at Bucky’s lips while he speaks, well, he’ll figure it out.

Steve’s had a lot of time to think about his current situation. Being held captive in a cave with a werewolf by a bunch of bad guys is not something he ever thought he would experience. Yet here he is, making the best of it. Steve’s never been closer to a person than he is with Bucky; sure Bucky doesn’t know what his favorite beer is or the last show he binged watched like Sam, but that stuff doesn’t matter. Steve doesn’t need to know Bucky’s favorite color when he knows what the man looks like when he first wakes up. He doesn’t care what Bucky’d do if he had a million dollars, as long as he gets to see his eyes crinkle and fangs peek-a-boo when he smiles.

There’s no other person Steve would want to spend the rest of his days in a cave with than Bucky.

Steve knows all this because he’s pretty sure he’s in love with Bucky.

\-- 

After Steve has his epiphany, things with Bucky get easier, but also harder. It’s easier to spend all waking hours together, let Bucky flaunt is nude body as much as he wants, to sleep at night with skin touching skin. It’s harder to look at the man and not kiss him, to know how much touching it too much touching, to set limits for the both of them. Bucky may not even know what love is, much less know what that entails. Steve can’t force these feelings onto the other man, or take advantage of him. If he does that, he’s no better than the people who keep them in this cave.

But Bucky is so sweet and irresistible, he crowds Steve’s face when he wants attention, rubs his face all over Steve’s body in affection, he’s kind and charming and, and, and. Steve could go on for hours, days, about the man, talk until his throat went raw and voice disappeared. Maybe it’s stockholm syndrome, maybe he’s lost his mind, but he doesn’t care. He’d burn the world down for Bucky, cover every surface in his face. Those expressive eyes, that sharp smile, his scruff and hair, his body, those muscular arms, those thick legs. Steve wants to show the whole world how beautiful this man is, but at the same time never share him with another soul in the whole galaxy.

He can’t get enough of Bucky, and he’ll follow that man anywhere, and take whatever he can get for as long as he’s wanted. All he wants is Bucky, ‘till the end of the line.

\--

They’ve decided to test how dog like Bucky is. Well, Steve has, but Bucky decided today was a wolf day and wants to play. Normally Steve would roughhouse with Bucky- like they did on human days when the brunett has too much pent up energy- but he doesn’t fancy the idea of getting mauled. Obviously Bucky would never intentionally hurt him, but he’s still a Big Ass Wolf, and can’t really control himself. So this is the solution.

Steve found one of the old sticks Bucky gifted him all those weeks ago and decided to see if Bucky would fetch. Maybe that’s an insensitive and asshole move, but the brunett doesn’t seem to mind, if anything he’s excited. The big wolf is wagging his tail, front legs stretched out on the ground with his back legs extended to his tail is in the air. Steve can’t help but laugh and smile dopily at Bucky, taking a moment to stare while his heart flutters. Bucky gives a playful yip.

“Okay, okay,” Steve concedes, still laughing a bit. He winds his arm back and Bucky’s eyes follow the stick. Steve fakes a throw but the wolf doesn’t budge at all and gives Steve a look that screams, _‘Really?’_ The blond just shrugs shyly and while Bucky is distracted, chucks the stick as far as he can. The wolf turns on a dime and shoots after the stick, kicking up dirt and dust.

Bucky lowers his head and skids past the stick, turning his hind legs to pivot his large frame. He scoops the stick into his mouth and teases Steve by taking his time returning, pretending his doesn’t understand the blond when he calls him.

“Bucky, c’mon. Seriously. Bring me the stick? Please?” Steve uses his kindest voice, still, Bucky looks at him out of the corner of his eyes and lays down to chew the stick.

Two can play this game.

Urging himself not to blush, Steve kneels on the ground and lifts his shirt up a bit to reveal his stomach. “Buuuuucky,” he drawls, stifling a laugh at the way Bucky’s head snaps up in interest. “Can you please bring me the stick?” The way his voice lilts in a slightly seductive tone definitely has Bucky’s attention, the wolf squirms a bit but stays put. Fine, he’ll just have to step it up.

“Promise I won’t tease ya anymore, c’mon. Yer’ a fine fella, won’t you do me this favor?” He’s pulling out all the stops, adding his Brooklyn accent into the mix. Bucky looks about ready to give in, but needs just a bit more _motivation._ “Please Buck, just give me your stick, I’ll be such a _good boy_.”

That, as predicted, gets the response Steve was looking for. Bucky shoots up and all Steve can think is, _‘I should have thought about this part’_ , because he has 300 pounds of horny wolf barrelling towards him. Suddenly, Bucky is upon him and he’s shoved into the dirt with an “oof.” Bucky is looking down at him with an intensity that makes his insides burn, and he can practically feel his heartbeat in his cheeks. _‘Mark me down as scared and horny,’_ his mind supplies, which is _not_ helping. The wolf is making a sound that does funny things to Steve, but not arousal, _nooo, never, not that_. (Ok maybe a little.)

All Steve can think of to do so that he doesn’t stare at Bucky’s wolf dick is say, “Uhh, you forgot the stick.” Bucky blinks and stares harder at Steve, almost squinting. Well, that didn’t work. Maybe he should try to explain to Bucky that they can’t have sex while he’s a wolf? (Steve isn’t _entirely_ opposed to it but he’s trying to distract the man.) But then Bucky might take that as human sex is a go. ( _Definitely_ not opposed to that one.)

Steve prays the author will takes this opportunity to input a Hydra Baddie to distract Bucky like they usually do, but alas. Bucky starts to lower his hulking frame to press against the blond, causing said man to widen his eyes and laugh nervously and violently. “Bucky,” Steve says, a mixture of apprehension and a hiss. Bucky flicks his glowing eyes to Steve and acknowledges the panic that is evident on Steve’s face. The wolf jerks back and stands, tucking his tail between his legs. Steve stays on the ground, looking at him in curiosity. The wolf won’t look at him, head bowed in guilt.

The blond blows air out of his mouth and gears up for the conversation he’s about to start. “Bucky,” he calls, “come over here.” The wolf comes reluctantly and lowers himself to Steve’s level, but making sure not to look at the man. Steve smiles sadly and strokes his hand over Bucky’s head. “I shouldn’t’ve done that,” he sighs, “I’m sorry. I’m not, uhh, ready for that. It’s fair to you to say stuff like that. I’m not mad or anything, promise.” Bucky doesn’t react other than flicking his ear. “Can I get a kiss?” This is toeing the line, Bucky loves to lick Steve when he’s a wolf and Steve calls it kissing because, well, that the human equivalent. Bucky likes giving Steve kisses, and is especially enthusiastic when Steve asks for them. However, this might not be the most appropriate time. Nonetheless, Steve will pull out the reliable cards and play a bit dirty to make his guy happy again.

Bucky finally looks at him and scoots forward on his stomach until his snout is next to Steve’s face. A warm, wet tongue presses against Steve’s face and the blond smiles happily and lays a kiss of his own on Bucky’s nose. _‘I love you more Buck.’_

\--

“I’m getting fat,” Steve declares one day, frowning at his stomach.

“Good,” Bucky grunts, not pausing to look at the blond; instead continuing to clean the underside of his nails with one of his many knives. Bucky’s instinct to care has made Steve into a housewife of sorts. Any attempt at physical activity has the brunett protesting and offering, “No Steve, I have it,” “Don’t worry about it,” “Let me do that for you.” It also doesn’t help that Bucky supervises Steve’s eating, making sure he finishes all his food and gets four meals a day.

Yes, four.

Sure, Steve isn’t _fat_ but he has put on a pound or two due to Bucky’s ministrations. Steve thinks the brunett secretly likes the way that Steve’s face has rounded a bit, jawline not as prominent, and the small curve of his stomach after a meal. At night he’ll lay his head on Steve’s stomach and whisper words in a language Steve doesn’t understand into his skin. The blond just lets him and adds it to the ever growing list of Weird Bucky Things.

Steve scoffs at Bucky’s response and rolls his eyes, sitting up frow where he was lying on the ground. The wolf’s eyes track him, making sure he’s never in danger, even when he does the simplest things. He crawls over to Bucky and goes to lay his head down in the man’s lap but thinks better of it. He doesn’t know if he could handle his face being that close to the man’s bare dick. When he settles for pressing against Bucky’s side, he looks to see the other man already watching him.

“What?” Bucky just shrugs and continues staring. Steve ignores him, as Bucky always does things that are a bit different that normal social standards. He’s picking at a thread on his pants when he sees the other man move his face closer out of the corner of his eye. Bucky keeps moving closer until his nose is pressed into Steve’s cheek. He makes a quiet whining sound, shuffling his body closer and closer.

“Uhh, Buck?” Steve questions, trying to see what Bucky is doing without moving his head. The man only whines and bit more and lies his head on Steve’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Steve just sighs and lets him take a nap on his shoulder, stroking his hair while he drifts off to sleep.

\--

Steve’s used to waking up with Bucky’s lower half in his face, as the man seems to enjoy sleeping this way as a wolf. However, this is new. He wakes up with an uncomfortable pressure on his neck, and he slowly opens his eyes. When his eyes _do_ open they widen and he flinches back.

Bucky doesn’t show any signs of waking up or being disturbed, which leaves Steve to be shocked alone. Still, he lies with his legs lying over Steve’s neck, forcing Steve to get an eyeful of his privates. Now, this isn’t new, but it’s definitely not something you want to see when you first wake up.

“Shit,” Steve whispers to himself, glancing over at Bucky to see if the wolf is still sleeping. Sure enough, his furry chest rises and falls peacefully. He can either wait for Bucky to get up and give him the satisfaction of knowing Steve has been staring at his junk, or he could get up himself and deal with a whiny wolf. Bucky hates to be woken up, and he hates it even more if Steve wakes up before him, which is almost always.

Steve shifts and slides out from under Bucky best as he can, holding his breath while watching the wolf. He doesn’t move at all making Steve sigh, he moves in slow motion across the blankets and lies down carefully, his back to the wolf. Bucky gives a little huff and scoots closer, poking his wet nose into Steve’s hair.

This is nice, he could get used to this.

\--

Bucky is being...weird. Weirder than normal, and that’s saying something. Steve is sitting off to the side, sketching as he watches Bucky putter around. He’s spent the majority of the day tearing down and rebuilding the nest. Steve told him he didn’t need to, that he liked the way it was, but the other man ignored him. He’s built it three different ways already, but each time he’d grumble that it wasn’t right and take it down again. He’s on his fourth attempt and Steve thinks it might be the final one. He seems to be happy with, and he keeps sending glances to Steve to gauge his reaction.

Steve watches as Bucky delicately drapes the final blanket over the roof and smiles triumphantly. Steve can’t help but to smile back and stand up and walk over to the other man.

“It looks amazing Buck,” he whispers encouragingly, tucking his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. Sure, it looks almost identical to the original set up, but Steve isn’t going to tell him that. Bucky turns his head to nuzzle his face into Steve’s, making a pleased noise. Steve sighs happily and resists the urge to turn his head, just a _bit_ more, and lay a kiss on those precious lips. Even though his lips tingle at the suggestion, he doesn’t act on it.

He can’t lead Bucky on like that again, plus, if he starts he might not be able to stop.

Steve pulls away and pats Bucky on the back, a bit bro-like for the position they were just in, but Steve’s floundering a little. He clears his throat awkwardly and smiles tightly at the brunet, “great job Bucky, thank you, really.” Bucky beams back at him and grabs his wrist, tugging him into the nest. Steve obliges him and lets himself be manhandled so that he’s sitting with his back to Bucky’s chest and the man’s arms are wrapped tight around his waist.

It’s nice, to just relax for a while with his best guy, not having to think about anything other than how nice it feels. Bucky’s chest is warm and solid against his back, the rise and fall of his ribs making Steve sync his breathing with Bucky’s unconsciously. He feels like he might fall asleep, closing his eyes and pressing all of his weight onto Bucky. The man doesn’t grunt or shift, and times like this remind Steve just how strong Bucky is.

He feels himself start to doze, but it interrupted by the sensation of Bucky’s mouth in his hair. Specifically, his tongue, because he’s licking Steve’s hair. _Grooming him_ . Steve tries to say something, but just sputters sounds out of his gaping mouth. He’s starting to turn his head with a pair of teeth latch onto to back of his neck, those sharp canines stinging. He gasps loudly, trying not to moan or get a boner, because _fuuuuck._ It’s obviously been a while since Steve got laid, a long while actually, and Bucky can’t just _do_ these things to him. He arches his back a little, shoving his ass into Bucky’s crotch, and that causes the other man to make a pleased grumble and pull Steve closer.

Steve lets out a shaky breath as Bucky goes back to grooming him, taking occasionally breaks to nibble at Steve’s ear. Steve wants to die, just turn into pieces and disintegrate. He’s so embarrassed and yet so incredibly turned on, it’s almost to much to bear. The fact that he can feel Bucky getting hard and pressing into his ass isn’t helping at all. He’s almost panting with the effort of stifling the noises that are crawling up his throat, sure that if they did, it would all go to shit.

Bucky’s nibbles and licks become more sporadic until they stop completely. Steve can feel his obvious hard on his still going strong, but he doesn’t seems to care, not even rubbing against Steve the slightest. Steve almost want to congratulate him, because he’s doing a lot better than Steve, who keeps wiggling in hopes of getting some relief.

“Stop moving,” Bucky scolds, pinching Steve’s stomach lightly.

“Hey!” Steve can feel the smile against his neck. He would glare and pout if Bucky could see him, but he won’t waste the effort if he can’t be called cute for it, like he usually is.

“Hungry _iubi_?” Bucky hums into his hair, rubbing his hands over Steve’s stomach. Steve thinks his balls are going to bust if Bucky doesn’t stop touching him ASAP, so he yelps a “Yes!” Steve rolls out of Bucky’s lap and covers his dick with his hands, trying to smile innocently at the man. Bucky just quirks an eyebrow and leaves the nest to collect lunch.

As soon as he leaves Steve drops the act and bangs his head against the wall. This man is going to kill him.

\--

“Open up _iubi_.” Steve flushes as Bucky slips his fingers into his mouth and presses them against his tongue. Steve closes his lips around them and sucks, keeping eye contact with Bucky as he does. Bucky’s fingers feel nice and sturdy in his mouth, and sweetness floods Steve’s tongue. Bucky is looking at him with half lidded eyes, pupils blown and eyes glowing. Bucky slowly pulls his fingers from Steve’s mouth and reaches down, towards Steve’s lap.

Bucky wraps his fingers around another piece of watermelon from the bowl that sits in Steve’s lap. He brings the fruit to his own mouth and smiles as he chews, juice running down his chin a bit. Steve tracks the liquid with his eyes and gulps, imagining how nice it would be to lick it up. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when an incredibly hot and naked man is hand feeding him.

Bucky has been really pushing it lately, it seems that ever since Steve’s rejection, he decided he needs to show Steve what a good partner he could be. Steve doesn’t mind, not at all. It’s _very_ nice. He hand feeds Steve all his meals, holds him close at night, makes Steve sit in his lap, and does a lot of face nuzzling. If Bucky was a full human and they lived in the real world, there’s no way Steve would let him get away with this. But they don’t live in the real world, and if he dies tomorrow, he can die happy.

It’s evident that Bucky has feelings for him, maybe not _in love_ like Steve is, but there is something there. Steve revels in the thought often, when Bucky purrs in content at night, or when he stokes Steve’s hip bones with his thumbs. The only problem is, Steve doesn’t know where they go from here. He wants to let Bucky make the moves, too afraid to cross a line and ruin their progress. But Bucky is slow on the uptake, it’s been two weeks of this treatment and nothing has progressed. It’s not like Steve can just lay one on him randomly, even if he wants to. (Can he?)

He’s brought out of his thoughts by a wet pressure a his lips. He opens his mouth on reflex and lets Bucky place another chunk of watermelon on his tongue. Steve chews and feels the fruit give way under his teeth and juice coat his tongue. Bucky smiles his little dopey smile and leans over the bowl, watching Steve’s mouth closely as he chews. Steve peers at him curiously, his eyes asking, _‘Yes?’_ Bucky shakes his head and smiles happily, showing off his teeth and crinkling eyes. Steve diverts his eyes down to the bowl, seeing how much watermelon was left, so he didn’t see Bucky move.

Firm, sticky lips are pressed sweetly into cheek. Steve’s eyes widen, his heart races and he can feel his whole body going hot and tingly. Bucky pulls away and bit, but then gives another small kiss before pulling away fully.

Steve’s heart is beating so fast he doesn’t think he can make any sound that wouldn’t be a squeak. He lets out a very embarrassing high pitched whine, which surprises the both of them. Bucky looks shocked for moment before dissolving into laughter, making Steve confused. Bucky leans back in, kissing the shell of Steve’s ear before whispering, “ _Ești atât de drăguț_.”

Steve can’t the giggle that escapes him, he’s just so giddy. That laughing breaks the damn and all of a sudden he can’t stop giggling, like a damn _school girl._ Bucky joins him in laughter, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. The brunett’s hair tickles Steve’s neck and he shrieks, jerking away, but Bucky just follows him. They end up in a pile on the ground, Bucky covering Steve’s face with kisses as the blond’s breath stutters and he shivers. Bucky kisses each cheek, his forehead, nose, eyes, even his chin. Bucky ducks in and Steve already knows Bucky’s going to kiss him, like, _kiss him_. He panics and turns his head at the last second, making the brunett’s lips land just shy of his mouth. Bucky makes a disappointed huff but takes the hint, he sits back up and brings Steve with him.

Steve sits, wringing his hands and not looking at the other man. Bucky drags over the water jug and places it in front of Steve. “Drink,” he says, placing one last kiss on Steve’s cheek before getting up and walking away. Steve follows him with his eyes and sighs when Bucky disappears into the nest. He fucked that one up bad.

He’s ruined his appetite, so he packs their food away and goes to sit as far away from the nest as he can. Bucky needs time to lick his wounds, he doesn’t need Steve in his space and sending mixed messages.

He sighs and wishes he had his sketchbook or the wolf head, anything to keep his hands busy, but he doesn’t. He resolves to trace patterns into the dirt, like he did all that time ago. Frustration flares in his stomach, isn’t this exactly what he wants? Why is he shying away now? Bucky can't get a good reading on him if all he does is one step forward and three steps back. He needs to make it up to Bucky somehow, and he knows exactly what he’ll do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Pereche. - Mate.  
> Pentru totdeauna. - Forever.  
> Ești atât de drăguț. - You're so cute.
> 
> ok so i usually write chapters in advance, like i posted chapter two once i finished writing this chapter. HOWEVER i'm having difficulty with the ending of chapter four, so i need your input. smut, or no smut? i kind of want to put it off so it has a chapter to itself, but im also stuck at a point where it can go either way. so let me know please!
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, nothing at all, whatever you want!


	4. In Sheep's Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve learns how to flirt, and get's some dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh i really tried on the smut but i'm ace and don't ever read smut other than for research. i hope it's ok

In all honesty, Steve feels a bit embarrassed. He’s trying to psych himself up for when Bucky comes back from the milk run (that’s what they call gathering supplies). He’s spent the past three days remembering and taking notes on flirting tips Sam gave him. Who knew they would actually come in handy someday. _“Use your body to flirt. Most men think with their dicks, so try to be enticing.”_ Sam had told him that once while they were at a club. They were both nursing some beers and Sam was trying to find Steve a partner, or at least a hook up. Steve couldn’t do it, he didn’t even try, he was too self conscious and awkward to even look another person in the eye. He and Peggy had broken up a few months before, and he told Sam he wasn’t ready for another girlfriend. Apparently Sam took that as he should try to set Steve up with a guy. So now Steve has an endless supply of tips from the best seller: _How to Get Some Dick: The Sam Wilson Method._

Steve takes a deep breath and bounces on his feet, psyching himself up. Ok, he can do this.

Step One: Lose the shirt.

Ok so maybe that wasn’t Sam’s first step but they were also in a club, in the real world, where he could take it slow. Steve can’t take it slow now, his time is limited. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

He hears Bucky call his name so he hastily strips out of his shirt and tosses it away, burying it under some blankets. He crawls out of the nest and initiates the next step.

Step Two: Good posture. _“Stop hunching those shoulders Rogers, you ain’t five foot nothin’ anymore.”_

He straightens his back and puffs out his chest in a way he hopes is enticing. Bucky rounds the corner and fixes him with a strange look.

Bucky blinks a few times before speaking. “Steve.” He sounds both shocked and confused. Steve ducks his head and looks up at Bucky through his lashes in a way he hopes says Sexy Innocence.

“Yes Bucky?” _“Make sure you say their name, it shows them you’re interested and attentive.”_ Bucky furrows his brows.

“Where’s your shirt?” Wait- what?

“Uh,” Steve responds dumbly, mouth gaping. That’s not how this is supposed to go, Bucky’s supposed to find his chest sexy, not be able to take his eyes off it. Instead, he looks insulted. “I lost it.” He finally answers, even though it is a very dumb response. How could he ever lose anything in here?

“Oh,” Bucky says, sounding slightly pleased, “well then.” Maybe this is working. Bucky reaches into the crate he was carrying and pulls out a soft looking grey hoodie. “Good thing I asked for more clothes then.” Steve wants to bang his head against a rock. “Here,” Bucky brings the hoodie over to him and dresses him like a child, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles and kissing his forehead. “Can’t have my Steve getting cold. Come on _iubi_ , dinner time.”

Steve stands there frozen as Bucky walks past him into the next, staring straight ahead in disbelief. He can hear Sam laughing at him in his head, _“How did you manage to fuck this up so quickly Rogers?”_ Honestly Sam, he has no idea.

\--

After a few more failed attempts at flirting the way Sam taught him, he has to change his tactics. He’d tried everything, eye contact, leaning in, changing his voice a bit so it was more alluring, but nothing worked. Bucky would only look at him in confusion and a little bit of pity, which was very embarrassing. This whole ordeal has been very damaging to his fragile self-worth.

So instead of flirting like a person, he has to flirt like a wolf.

Which brings us to what is quickly becoming one of the most embarrassing moment of Steve’s life. When Steve thinks back to the things Bucky did to show he was interested in Steve, one main thing comes to mind; pissing on his belongings.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” he whispers to himself, staring deeply at the pile of blankets where Bucky typically sleeps. He can’t bring himself to just like, actually piss all over Bucky’s blankets. That’s too extreme, even for him, so he’s come up with a compromise. He pulls back the blankets to reveal the dirt below them, and sets to work digging a shallow ditch with a rock. When’s he’s dug a shallow dip into the floor that spans most of the area where Bucky sleeps, he takes a shuddering breath.

Steve can feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he pulls his pants down enough to get his penis out. “Oh God,” he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut as he lets go of his bladder, which he had been filling up all day. The sound of urine splattering against the dirt makes him whine, but he forces himself to move, spreading the liquid out evenly. Once he’s finished, he pushes the dirt back over the pitch and redresses the blankets over the dirt. He takes a sniff, and yep- definitely smells like his piss. Now all he can do is cross his fingers and hope for the best.

Later that evening he can confirm that the embarrassment was worth it. Bucky’s rolling in his blankets like a dog does to a dead animal. His pupils are huge and his tail is wagging happily; he’s looking at Steve with hooded eyes and making contented grumbles and hums. Steve scratches his belly, enjoying the feeling of Bucky’s coarse fur running through his fingers.

“Good boy,” Steve teases, knowing how much Bucky hates to be called that. Sure enough, the wolf clamps his jaws lightly around Steve’s arm and gives a playful growl.

Steve smiles at him and sticks his tongue out, which makes Bucky release his arm and lick into Steve’s mouth as the blond starts to speak. Steve shrieks and flails backwards, Bucky follows to crawl on top of him and smother his face in kisses. Steve sputters and makes overdramatic complaining sounds until Bucky stops his assault and lays his head on Steve’s chest.

“You’re disgusting,” Steve tells him, petting his head anyways and scratching behind his ears. Bucky gives Steve a wolf smile and licks the man’s chin, just because he can.

\--

A week into the mutual flirting, Bucky is beginning to act like a brat. He’s generally grumpy, has a quick temper and isn’t being very nice to Steve. Steve can’t figure out what he’s done wrong, they were both enjoying themselves, flirting and acting coy. Sly touches and seductive looks, hand feeding each other and sleeping side by side. Steve couldn’t ask for anything better, but apparently Bucky could.

Steve’s laying half in, half out of the nest on his stomach, drawing a grumpy wolf with sad eyebrows and an exaggerated frown in his sketchbook. Above him, Bucky paces and flips his knife, occasionally throwing it into the wall and going to retrieve it. He’s grumbling under his breath and being a bit in a nuisance, his movements causing the light to constantly change.

Steve gives up on his drawing and rests his chin in his hand, watching Bucky pace. “You know,” he starts, causing Bucky to look at him, but continue pacing. “There’s this wild thing called voicing your emotions and talking about your feelings. You should try it.” So he’s being a bit of an asshole, sure, but he can’t help it. Dealing with a keyed up Bucky has worn his patience thin and he’s not feeling like the kindest person at the moment.

Bucky stops to glare at him.

Some childish part of Steve wants to buck at him, probably the skinny asshole always looking for a fight from high school. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t feel like risking his life right now, maybe another day.

Bucky flares his nostrils and exhales noisily before stomping over to Steve. He sits down so hard that it send a little vibration through the floor, Steve rolls his eyes. The brunett crosses his arms and pouts like a little kid, except it’s a bit more scary with the sharp teeth.

“What’s wrong Bucky?” He’s gained some patience back, but only a bit.

Bucky glowers at his lap and grumbles something. “Huh?”

“Rut,” he says a bit louder this time. Steve looks at him blankly and blinks a few times.

“I’m sorry, I don-,” Bucky cuts him off.

“Why won’t you mate with me?” Steve’s brain spazzes out.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve asks in shock, staring at Bucky with a dumb expression. He’s sure if he looked in a mirror his eyes would be glazed over as his little brain minions run around in a panic. Bucky huffs.

“I said,” oh here comes the attitude, “why won’t you mate with me?” Bucky’s tone is very condescending, and Steve can tell he’s getting frustrated with this conversation as they talk themselves in circles. “It doesn’t make an sense,” oh ok, he’s not finished, this should be exciting, “I courted you, I showed you how well I can provide. You said I was a good _pereche_ , you even courted me back!” Bucky’s really upset now, he stood up halfway through his spiel and is back to pacing the floor.

Steve’s brain gets with the program, mostly. “I didn’t umm, realize that was what we were doing. Humans don’t….do that?” Bucky looks offended.

“They don’t? Why are you so weird? How do you know who wants to mate with you?” Steve blushes and looks down. He awkwardly clears his throat.

“They usually...ask? Or like, make advances? Are you talking about sex mating or like, getting married?”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows and looks confused. “What is married?”

“When two people love each other very much they have a ceremony and promise to spend the rest of their lives together. They usually give each other rings,” Steve explains, feeling a bit like a parent talking to a child. Bucky rolls his eyes.

“That is the same thing as mating. Why are humans so stupid?” Bucky is now both confused and pissed off, he so doesn’t understand humans.

“When humans have sex, uh mate, they don’t get married. Usually. And people date, it’s like getting married but, not really,” Steve tries to explain further. Really, anything to keep Bucky from talking about he and Steve mating.

Bucky marches back over to Steve, looking very very angry. “Are you saying,” he growls, eyes burning holes into Steve’s soul, “that others have touched you? They mated you and, didn’t cherish you? They didn’t keep you and care for you as I do?” Steve has to think of something quick, because Bucky’s claws are lengthening and fur is sprouting over his face and arms.

“Bucky, no. I’ve never had a mate before, no one, uh, has ever wanted to be my mate. Until you, I guess.” That’s a lie, but Steve isn’t going to tell Bucky in detail all the times he’s been fucked up the ass. Or those times with Peggy, or any other woman for that matter. For some reason, this only makes things worse.

“What! How could no one see what a worthy mate you are! You’re perfect, they’re all fools for treating you as anything but. I’ll rip them to shreds, they didn’t love you the way I do.” Bucky is snarling but Steve is still caught on the fact that Bucky said he _loves_ him. He stands up.

“Bucky,” he calls, breaking the man out of his rant.

“What?” Bucky snaps his head to the side in annoyance to look at him. Still, he stops talking and listens to Steve

Steve grins in a manic way, shaking his head. “Shut the fuck up.”

And then he kisses Bucky.

\--

The thing about kissing Bucky is, Steve did not expect the whole canine fangs thing to be such a big deal, but they are.

As soon as their lips touch, Bucky is all over him. Steve feels his clawed hands cradle his neck and jaw, the sharp points of his thumbnails pricking Steve’s skin. Bucky presses his body against Steve’s so that they’re touching from head to toe. Their hip bones grind together, a sweet sharp pain that makes Steve gasp and Bucky growl. The brunett is practically trying to crawl inside of Steve, he assaults the blond’s mouth with his tongue. He’s licking deeply, running it all over the roof of Steve’s mouth and his teeth. It feels a bit like an oral exam, or the first time he made out with someone in high school, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t great. Steve figures Bucky doesn’t have a lot of experience with kissing people, so he lets it slide.

Steve tries to recuperate with his own tongue, but stops short when he feels Bucky’s teeth. He doesn’t want to pull away from the kiss, but he also can’t figure out what he’s supposed to do. Is it like kissing a person with braces? No, not really, there’s none of the ridged metal that scrapes against the other person’s teeth and lips, but it’s sort of the same concept. There’s something in the way of a deeper kiss, but maybe it’s just a psychological barrier.

Steve eases his tongue in a bit more, and Bucky’s canines scrape against his tongue. The sensation sends a thrill up his spine, and blood swirls in his veins and swims to his groin. Ok, to the fangs _definitely_ aren’t a bad thing.

Bucky makes a low sound in his throat and presses harder against Steve, like he wants them to become one person. He pulls away from Steve’s mouth and ducks his head under the blond’s chin. Bucky pushes until Steve backs them up against the wall; he latches his teeth over Steve’s jugular, the four points of pressure from his fangs make Steve dizzy. Steve feels the way Bucky’s legs spread and bracket him in, keeping him trapped against the wall. He sighs in bliss as Bucky takes his mouth on a tour of his neck, occasionally his breath will catch when those teeth scrape his skin.

Bucky pulls his head up and gazes at Steve, eyes glowing like they never have before. When he speaks, the growling makes his words almost impossible to distinguish.

“Steve,” it sends shivers through his veins.

His own response is breathy and weak, “Bucky.” Bucky stares at him for a few moment longer before licking his own lips.

“Be my mate Steve. Mate with me, my _iubi_ . Let me be your _pereche_ ,” Bucky says in that sweet baritone; Steve’s knees give slightly, he jerks down the wall a few inches before catching himself. Bucky watches him expectantly while he pants and gathers his thoughts. He realizes that Bucky is, 1) serious about this, 2) not going to force Steve. If he says fuck off, Bucky will. That, for some reason, only makes him hotter, and he whimpers as he grabs Bucky’s arms.

“Yes,” he pleads, fingers gripping tightly, making the skin around his hands go white. Bucky growls.

He’s yanked from the wall without ceremony and shoved into the nest. Bucky climbs on top of him, caging him once again with his whole body. Steve knows he could get away if he wanted to, Bucky would let him. But the illusion of being trapped under a savage beast is much more appealing, and he moans as Bucky lightly runs his clawed hands over his skin.

For all the haste Bucky made outside the nest, he’s taking his time now. Invasive kisses became sweet and lazy, hard pressure was now light touches. Bucky purrs as he rubs  his naked body on Steve’s clothed one, kissing what skin he can access without undressing his lover.

“Off,” he rumbles, tugging at Steve’s hoodie and pants, eager to have that delicious skin against his own. Steve obliges him, sitting up and making Bucky shift to sit in his lap. He sets to work, fingers tucking under the hem of the hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. Before he can move on to his pants, Bucky attaches his mouth to his chest. His hot, wet mouth seals itself over Steve’s nipple and the man practically screams at the sensation. Bucky pulls away and grins giddily, looking all the world like he could swallow Steve whole.

This is going to be fun.

The brunett continues to torture Steve’s chest, leaving lavish kisses and bruises littered across his skin. Steve is lost in pleasure, judging from the sounds the spew from his mouth, and he runs his hands through Bucky’s hair. The silky strands shift and glide over his fingers, and the whisper of the ends caress his skin. He hums happily and lets himself float, soothed by Bucky’s affections.

Bucky crawls back up his body and leaves tender kisses on his mouth. Steve smiles at him when he speaks, “Open your eyes darling.” Steve does so, not even recalling when he closed them. Bucky smiles back at him sweetly, and they kiss a while longer. The desperate lust from before is returning, and Steve grinds his hips up into Bucky’s. Bucky makes a sound deep in his chest and grinds back, making Steve gasp as he feels Bucky’s hard on slide against his skin.

Steve thrusts his hips up again and yanks them down best he can. The elastic slips down to his thighs and Bucky pulls them off the rest of the way. All that’s left is his underwear, and Bucky gazes at the wet spot growing on the front of them and licks his lips. He glances at Steve for confirmation and Steve nods, arching his hips again as Bucky pulls the fabric down.

Steve lets out a stuttering moan as the feeling of Bucky’s hands on his skin. Bucky lies down next to him and heaves Steve up so that he’s sitting on his abdomen. The brunett smirks at the other man.

“Can’t open you up with these,” Bucky raises his hands and wiggles his fingers, showing off his claws. “Turn around.” Steve does as he’s told and flushes as he realizes what Bucky’s going to do. Bucky wraps his hands around Steve’s hips and yanks, pulling the blond’s ass towards his face. Bucky says something that sounds suspiciously like, “Bring that ass here,” as Steve barks a laugh. He’s about to tease Bucky but his words are cut off with a gasp as Bucky parts his cheeks. The brunett hums happily and props himself up on his elbows, taking his time enjoying the view.

Steve shivers at how exposed he feels, unable to stop the way his hole clenches and flutters. Steve feels rather than sees Bucky lean in, so he’s somewhat prepared for the wet tongue that flattens itself over his hole. He moans and lets his head hang limp between his shoulders. Bucky’s dips back in and sets to work on opening Steve with his tongue. He licks and sucks, alternating between flicks and long laps. Steve makes sounds the whole time, whines and groans, pants and moans.

Steve drops his face down on Bucky’s hip when he feels the man’s tongue push past the tight ring of muscles and fuck into him. He can’t help but push back into it, which only encourages Bucky to go to town on his ass. The brunett is making these filthy slurping and sucking noises that Steve can’t get enough of.

He turns his head and come face to face with Bucky’s leaking cock. He eyes the thick, red appendage and decides to return the favor. Steve mouths at Bucky’s cock, giving it sweet, open mouthed kisses and lavishing it with his tongue. Bucky moans into his skin and the vibrations spur Steve on. He shifts his head and picks up Bucky’s dick. He maneuvers it and open his mouth wide, swallowing down as much as he can in one go.

Bucky lets out a long and deep groan, pulling away from Steve’s hole to throw his head into the blankets. Steve smirks as best as he can with a huge cock in his mouth and gets to work. He bobs his head up and down Bucky’s shaft, pressing his tongue into the ridged veins and suckling on the head. The taste of Bucky’s bitter pre-come in his mouth is delicious. It perfectly matches the heady smell of the man, and Steve pulls off Bucky go so he can nuzzle the man’s pubic hair and take a deep breath. Bucky nips at his hole teasingly, causing his to yelp and jerk, legs splaying out. He turns to give Bucky a glare and sees the man is laughing at him.

There’s saliva and sweat covering Bucky’s lips, cheeks and chin. His pupils are blown wider than the moon, and he has a look of euphoria on his face. “C’mere,” he rasps, “wanna kiss you, pretty boy.” Steve blushes at the name but does as he’s told, awkwardly turning himself around and crawling up to meet Bucky. Bucky captures his lips with his own and they slide together wetly, slick with spit.

Steve pulls away until their lips are barely touching, “I can’t believe you’re kissing me after you’ve had your tongue in my ass,” he teases.

Bucky chuckles and kisses him again, “Mmm you like it,” he responds between kisses. Steve smiles against his lips and couldn’t imagine himself happier. Bucky runs his hands up and down his back and lays his big hands over Steve’s ass. He grabs the plump flesh and squeezes, making Steve to gasp and moan. Bucky kneads the flesh sensuality and grinds their cocks together. “You’re so good Stevie, my sweet _iubi_ . Do you want my cock _dragă_? Want me to mate you?” Steve whimpers at that rough, sexy voice that makes his skin vibrate. He nods vigorously into Bucky’s chest.

“Yes, yes please Bucky. Please mate me, want you to.” Bucky growls in response and flips the both of them over in one quick move, lying Steve on his back. He pushes Steve knees apart and up to his chest, leaving the blond’s hole exposed. Steve watches as the brunett licks his lips and gently rubs over his hole, careful of his claws. Steve moans and looks at Bucky wantonly. “I’m ready Buck, please.” Bucky looks at him and nods, shuffling forward on his knees. He bends down and lays a tender kiss on Steve’s lips. They smile at each other before Bucky leans back up and take a deep breath.

Steve feels a pressure as his hole, big and firm, not small and flexible like Bucky’s tongue. Steve moans as Bucky presses in, the head popping past the tight ring of muscles. Steve forces himself to relax and adjust himself to Bucky’s size. It stings a bit, since they don’t have lube and Bucky only got him a little loose with his tongue, but it’s so good. If he thought Bucky was big just looking at him, it doesn’t compares to the feeling of Bucky’s swollen cock splitting him wide open. Steve’s never felt so full in his life, and Bucky just keeps coming, it feels like he’ll never bottom out. When Bucky’s hips blessedly press into Steve’s ass, the blond’s gasps and pants. It feels like Bucky’s cock is in his throat, and he feels so taken and owned by this man’s long and thick member. Bucky’s looking at him hungrily and rolling his hips, making Steve’s insides tingle.

Steve clenches down a bit, causing both of them to moan. Bucky’s so hard it feels like steel, hot and pulsing and _big_.

“Move,” Steve keens, “move. Please-you gotta. I can't. Oh _god_ Bucky.” The other man doesn’t need to be told twice, as soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, Bucky is pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in. It punches a shout from Steve and a rumbling moan from Bucky. Every thrust hits Steve’s prostate, causing his legs to jerk and spasm at the over-stimulation. He’s making high, needy whines, sounds that he’s never made before. Bucky is staring down at him possessively, hair hanging in a curtain over his face and swaying with each thrust. Steve feels as high as a kite, all his limbs tingle and burn, and he can hardly keep his eyes open.

“Good Stevie,” Bucky says, tossing Steve’s legs over his shoulders and leaning down to kiss him. “My good boy, my _pereche_ . Oh my, my _iubi,_ feels so good. All mine, just for me.”

“Yours,” Steve pants, “all yours.” Their lips slide together, the sounds of skin on skin and wet kisses fill the air around them, and Steve feels hazy with love. The heat in his gut is growing and he’s making little _‘ah-ah-as’_ s with every thrust Bucky gives. “M’gonna come,” he slurs, reaching his hand up to caress Bucky’s face. The man turns his head and presses a kiss into the sweaty skin. His licks a stripe over Steve’s palm and relishes in the salty taste of sweat and the patterns of his life line under his tongue. Bucky moves to kiss across Steve’s neck, purring in delight at the silky, pale skin. He alternates between tender pecks and rough scrapes of teeth. Steve is making such pretty noises and Bucky tells him so.

“Mmm, love the sounds you make, let everyone know I’m claiming you. Everyone in the whole world will know you’re mine.” It sends Steve over the edge and he cries out, celching down hard and squirting ropes of come up to his chest. Bucky moans loudly above him and thrusts a few more time before pounding in one last time, and Steve feels something big pop past his rim and enter him, pressing so close to his prostate he may scream. He feels the scorching gush of Bucky’s come filling him up, and it just keeps coming and Steve is _so full_. Steve imagines sucking Bucky’s cock and swallowing down his gallons of come. The thought makes him moan and more come drizzles out of his spent cock, causing Bucky to smile wolfishly at him.

“What’s,” he gasps for breath and tosses his head like he’s in a fever haze, still coming down from his orgasm. “What is that?” Bucky runs his fingers through the mess on Steve’s stomach with his fingers before answering.

“My knot,” the brunett tells him. “It’s for mating, keeps us lock together, keeps my come inside to breed you, fill you up with my pups.” Steve blushes violently at the explanation.

“You know I can’t get pregnant, right Bucky? I don’t have a uterus, I’m not a woman.” Bucky considers this with a frown, after a moment or two he shrugs and shifts his hips, causing Steve to yelp as Bucky’s knot presses into his swollen prostate.

“Sorry,” Bucky responds with a frown. Steve just waves him off and shifts, trying to find a comfortable position. When he hails he lets out a huff and pouts up at Bucky. Bucky smiles at him dorkily. “Oh Stevie, are you uncomfortable?” Steve nods. “Ok, give me one second.” He moves Steve’s legs and rolls them so both men are laying on their sides, Steve back to Bucky’s chest. The movement causes more pressure against Steve’s prostate and a little of Bucky’s come to spill out, but he clenches his teeth and keeps quite. Bucky shushes him and rubs against his chest with those strong hands. Bucky picks up and corner of a blanket and wipes Steve’s release off the blond’s chest before pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Sleep now _iubi,_ you need the rest. I will wake you when my knot goes down.” Steve obliges him and sleepily closes his eyes.

Just before he drifts off completely, Steve whispers to the air, “I love you.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Pereche. - Mate.  
> Iubi. - Love.  
> Dragă. - Darling. 
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, nothing at all, whatever you want!


	5. Cry Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I come to a world of iron to make a world of gold
> 
> -Man of La Mancha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS VERY DARK AND INCLUDES EXPLICIT VIOLENCE AS WELL AS GORE. If this bothers you please don't read, and I will see you next chapter, all others, enjoy your ride on the Pain Train.

Bucky doesn’t end of waking Steve when his knot goes down, instead, he wakes Steve up by sticking his tongue in Steve’s ass again.

Steve wakes comfy and contented, whole body pleasantly worn out and sleep warm. Steve’s about to pick up his head from where he’s pillowed it in his arms and look for Bucky when he feels it. A stuttering, painful gasps rips itself from his throat and it’s all he can do to stop himself from screaming. Behind him, Bucky has taken advantage of Steve lying on his stomach and is delightfully eating the blond out. His tongue fucks deep into Steve loose hole and Steve moans at the feeling of Bucky’s come oozing out of him and making a huge mess. Bucky scoops what he can of his come back onto his fingers and pushes it back into Steve with the pads of his fingers, rubbing the liquid into the skin around it. Steve moans and pushes back, cock swelling and skin running hot. Bucky hums, pleased, and sets back to licking. Steve lays there, still a bit sleepy, and revels in the sensation of his beautiful mate eating him out.

All too soon he’s close, thrusting his hips back into Bucky’s face and whimpering, trying to get friction on his cock at the same time. Bucky jabs his tongue in deep one last time, and licks over Steve’s prostate, and he’s done. He shoots his load all over the blankets under him and moans and moans as Bucky keeps teasing his hole. When he’s come down and is too sensitive to take anymore, he wiggles away from Bucky and flips over. Bucky crawls up his body slowly, like a predator, and captures his lips. He licks into Steve’s mouth and the blond moans at the taste of himself and Bucky’s come.

They kiss for some time until Bucky pulls away and smiles deviously at Steve. “Ready for round three?”   


Over the next four days Steve has more sex than he ever thought possible. Bucky in rut is the horniest creature to ever exist, and what he wants, Steve is glad to give him. They fuck in the morning, afternoon, night and anytime in between. Bucky is all over Steve, always eager to touch and feel, running his hands over the pale expanse of the blond’s skin, and mouthing at his throat. Steve doesn’t even bother getting dressed anymore because he know his clothes will be torn off eventually and he’s grown to really like that hoodie, he’d rather not rip it. The nest stinks of sweat and sex and come, it’s disgusting, yet sends a shiver down Steve’s spine and has him begging for more.

But soon enough, Bucky’s rut comes to a close, and he’s no longer getting fucked six ways to Sunday at least thrice a day. Sure they still have sex almost every day, but it’s not the same frantic and rough kind anymore. This is making love, sweet and slow and emotionally, and Steve thinks he likes that kind even more.

\--

Blood. There was so much blood, it was everywhere. Why was there so much blood?

A wolf. _“He’s dead,”_ they laugh. Who? Who was dead?

White bone shines in the moonlight, chest slashed open, ribs visible, poking through skin.

 _“If you stay,”_ she says, _“you’ll both die.”_ It’s the redheaded woman, she’s looking at him in pity. Something burns in his hand and he looks down, the iron trinket. It leaves bloody blisters in its path as it melts through his hand, burning away flesh and bone. He watches it go and looks through the hole it made and sees him.

Bucky’s face covered in blood. His face is grey and sickly. His eyes are clouded over and bleeding. He’s dead.

Steve wakes with a scream, it tears itself from his throat and shatters the silence of the night. Bucky answers with a yelp of his own, shooting up on all fours and haunching into an aggressive stance. Steve sees him breathe, watches him move. Not dead. He sobs. Bucky whips his head around to look at Steve and whines, padding over to him and licking the tears off his face. Steve throws his arms around the wolf, and buries his face into the wiry fur and cries.

“Please,” he says, voice cracking, “please.”

In the morning Steve stares at the wall with empty eyes while Bucky sleeps beside him and knows what he has to do.

\--

“Bucky,” he calls, brows stern and face serious. Bucky looks at him with an odd look but ambles over anyways.

“Yes, my _pereche_?” Bucky blinks at him innocently but Steve didn’t have time for games or flattery.

“Why haven’t you left this place?” Bucky frowns at him.

“What do you mean? I could never leave you here Steve. I can’t leave my _pereche_ , you must know that. You’re my _iubi_ Stevie, I’ll always stay with you.” He’s smiling sweetly by the end of it, looking dopey.

Steve sighs in exasperation and tries again. “No, I mean before me. Why haven’t you escaped? Can’t you dig a hole?” Steve pauses when Bucky stops smiling and looks anxious. “Can you dig a hole? Bucky we can escape, just you and me, we can get out of this cave.” Steve stresses his words and looks at Bucky hopefully but the man avoids his eyes and his expression closes off. It’s scary, seeing how quickly Bucky can turn from, well, Bucky, to the man they send out on missions.

Steve makes an apprehensive swallow, “Bucky?” His voice is timid and tender, and he reaches out to coax the brunett to look at him. When their skin touches Bucky thrashes out of his grasp and growls, baring his fangs and eyes glowing in anger. “Ok,” Steve whimpers, raising his hands up in fear.

Although he does take a few moments to calm down, Bucky does come back to himself and glares at something behind Steve.

“I’ve tried,” he rumbles, “it’s the iron. the cave is enclosed in iron walls.” He scoffs and gives Steve a bitter look. “You think they could hold me without it? Iron, it weakens us, the _suprafiresc_. It keeps me from escaping this cave, and when on missions. They mix diluted iron into the clothes, it makes my bones ache, it feels so wrong.” He shudders and looks away. “Pure iron is the worst,” he gestures to the horrendous scar on his bicep, “it burns the skin like fire, acid. It kills,” he looks at Steve meaningly, “but it also protects.” The implications of that statement makes Steve’s heart swoop, and his chest tightens in a foreboding way.

“I wouldn’t- I’m not. Bucky I-,” he doesn’t know what to say, and his heartbeat is roaring in his ears.

“Will you leave me Steve?” Bucky’s voice is cold and his eyes are dead, it’s too much. His face is too similar to Steve’s dream and the blond feels himself go cold. He wants to deny it, tell Bucky he would _never_ leave him, would never leave this place, not without him. But, is it true? Would he not take a chance at freedom if presented with it? He isn’t sure, and that may be the most terrifying contemplation of all. Steve feels his hands tremor and he slowly looks down at them, feeling like the world is in slow motion. They shake, his hands, they’re blue. Or is it a trick of the eye? Someone is speaking, who’s here with him? A man, _‘Bucky’_ his mind says, but that can’t be true.

Bucky is dead.

He saw it, with his eyes, and the redhead pities him. It’s his fault, he couldn’t save Bucky. He couldn’t save his _pereche_.

Someone grabs him, he lets them. He wonders where they will take him, maybe to kill him. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care anymore. Bucky isn’t here so what purpose does his life have? They shake him, they lay him down, hands gingerly touch his face. They’re so sweet, he wants to lean into them and feel Bucky run his hands through his hair. Wants Bucky to call him his _iubi_ , his _pereche_ , he just wants to hear his voice one last time.

“Steve,” oh, there it is, and it sounds like heaven.

“Bucky,” he sighs, closing his eyes so he can keep this moment forever. “Don’t leave me again,” he tells the voice, “I want to be with you again. I’ll be with you again.” The voice makes a distressed sound.

“Steve, Steve I’m right here _iubi_. Please open your eyes Steve.” Steve shakes his head and frowns, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“I can’t, if I open my eyes you’ll go away,” he explains. Why isn’t he dying faster? He wants to be with Bucky now. “Lay with me,” he requests, holding out his shaking hands. Warmth spreads across his cold, cold skin, into his soul. He almost sobs with happiness, gripping the warmth tightly.

“Ok,” Bucky’s voice says, “I’ll lay with you.” Steve smiles and sighs, letting the warmth from the voice seep deep into his bones.

“I love you,” he says to the darkness.

“I love you, Steve,” is the answer, so Steve let’s go.

\--

When Steve wakes, his body is sore and his mind feels drained and cloudy. His eyes are open but it’s hard to see, like someone coated his eyes with something thick and heavy. There is no warmth around him, he is all alone in the nest. He looks around for Bucky, until his memories crashing against his skull.

“Oh,” he says softly, muscles going limp as he sinks back to the ground. The dream, their fight, his...break down. Surely Bucky won’t want him anymore. He feels sick to his stomach with the thought.

It’s cold and too bright and smells acid instead of like home. It doesn’t smell like home, like Bucky.

Instead of sitting around feeling sorry for himself, he leaves the nest to investigate the cave. It’s silent and the air feels thick with humidity, Steve can feel his pores open up to the moisture, and it leaves him sticky and hot. There’s no sign of Bucky in this part of the cave, so he ventures out and around the bend. He finds him there, close to the mouth of the cave, with his back to Steve. He approaches Bucky with quite feet, but he knows Bucky can hear him, he just doesn’t want to disturb the peace.

He seats himself to Bucky’s right and stares ahead with him. He never really payed attention to what sat outside the cave’s iron bars, but now he sees that it leads to a clearing. Buildings surround it on all sides it seems, and Steve’s plan of escape deflate a bit.

Next to him, Bucky speaks, his voice gruff, “They’re sending me on a mission.” Steve’s heart plummets.

“Oh,” he says faintly. They stay in silence. Bucky turns and gives him a meaningful look, one that burns into his soul.

“I will get you out of here.”

Steve notices that he doesn’t say us.

\--

It’s night when Bucky returns, days later. Days that were filled with Steve forcing himself to do anything other than lie motionless and stare blankly at nothing. Feeding himself was a struggle, like his hands forgot how to after being fed by Bucky for so long. He’d allowed his awareness to fade and become hazy with nothing to expect, but it snaps back like a rubber band when he hears shouts from outside.

Steve blinks slowly back to awareness and stumbles out of the nest, eager to see Bucky again. When he nears the mouth of the cave he sees they have Bucky tied up with chains, no doubt containing iron. They wrap around his muzzle and span his whole body, holding him taut as they pull him forward. He puts up a fight, snarling and pulling on the chains, yanking the men around. When they near the gate, he shys away from the bars, but still attempts to escape. The men do see Steve, they must, he’s so close to them, but they ignore him, instead opening the gate and attempting to pull Bucky in. If he weren’t so keen on reuniting with Bucky, this would be a perfect time to try and escape.

Bucky is still straining against the chains, pulling himself backwards and away from the cave. One of the men yells something to someone in the crowd outside the cave and a man steps forward with a sharpened pole. Steve gasps in fear of what will happen to Bucky, but stands his ground. The man with the pole walks forward and Steve has to close his eyes as he pulls his arms back and stabs at Bucky’s hind leg. The sound Bucky releases is awful, and Steve senses are flooded with the sound of sizzling flesh and the smell of burned hair. When Steve realizes what they’ve done he bends over and gags. Nothing but acidic bile comes up, and he spits until he can no longer taste it.

While he was distracted they had managed to get Bucky into the cave and close the gate, leaving his heaving and growling, still covered in chains. He’s turned away from Steve, his hackles raised and fur bristling.

“Bucky?” He calls hesitantly, trying hard to keep himself from shaking and to stay upright. The wolf does not respond, not even a twitch of an ear to show he hears Steve. Steve approaches him carefully, “Bucky,” he says, thought this time he reaches out with his hand and lays it lightly on Bucky’s side. The wolf immediately turns, snapping at Steve with his sharp and powerful teeth. Steve gasps and yanks his hand back, looking at Bucky with wide eyes. The wolf’s own eyes stare back and Steve feels dread wash over him at the look he gives Steve. There’s no recognition there, only a feral, injured animals that seeks revenge.

Steve backs away the wolf slowly, but he follows, every step. “Bucky,” Steve tries again, but there is no answer, no flicker of the man he loves in those angry eyes.

The wolf- it’s not Bucky anymore- pulls back its chops to expose its teeth, they glisten with saliva and are tinted red with blood. The wolf lies its ears flat against its skull and stalks towards Steve like he’s a mission. Like he’s prey.

Steve only gets a second of warning as the wolf lowers itself before lunging at Steve. He turns to run and cries out as an aching pain burns in his calf. He looks down to see a deep gash weeping blood through his tattered pants and he falls, leg refusing to move with him. Steve flips himself onto his back and crawls backwards before the wolf can pounce on him and end it. His leg drags through the dirt, leaving a trail of blood as the gash clots with gravel and soil.

The wolf stalks him, circling him like a shark and filling the air with a bone chilling growl. Steve is trying to think of a way to survive this when Bucky’s voice rings in his head, _‘Pure iron...it kills, but it also protects.’_ The trinket. Steve whips his head around to see where the nest it. Close, if he hurries. He takes the risk of turning his back on the wolf and rolls again; scuttling across the ground, digging desperate fingers into the dirt to pull himself forward.

He enters the nest in a panic, digging around in the blankets, fingers being his eyes in the darkness. They stumble across the sharp end of the iron nail trinket and he grasps it hysterically and holds tight, whipping around to the opening.

It’s eerily quiet quiet in the cave, only the sound of his own ragged breathing permeates the air. Steve’s muscles lock in terror and he burns cold, he’s being hunted. There’s nothing he can do, any movement will give him away, his life is in the wolf’s hands. How long will it make him wait? Until he's too exhausted to be cognizant and fight back? What will Bucky do when he comes back to himself and sees that he’s...killed. Killed his _pereche._ What if Bucky never come back to himself?

A stuttering sob escapes him, unable to control the visuals in his mind. He knows he’s just sealed his fate, that these moments are his last on this earthly plane, but he can’t bring himself to care.

As expected, the wolf lunges, crashing into the nest and destroying it. Steve ducks, bringing his arms up in an X to shield his face and chest. The wolf pins him and swipes at his hands, knocking his arms apart and Steve watches in horror at the trinket flies from his grip, and lands just out of reach. The wolf slams a paw into Steve’s chest, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him dazed. Steve watches as the deadly creature tucks its head down, and Steve gets an up close look at those teeth. The wolf blows hot, angry breath into Steve’s face and Steve breathes it in as he hyperventilates. Steve stares the wolf in the eyes and feels his own water and chest sting. He has to try, one last time.

“Bucky,” he coos, and slowly brings his trembling, bloody hand to stroke the wolf’s ears, down to its flank. The wolf goes deathly still and stops growling, rising slightly so that Steve is not longer pinned. _‘Now.’_

As quick as anything, Steve thrashes out from under the wolf and throws his hands out, snatching the iron trinket. The wolf snarls at being tricked and does what it knows, attacks.

Steve is suddenly flooded with such excruciating pain that he thinks he may pass out. He looks on in terror at the wolf’s claws sink deep into the flesh of his arm, they rip through muscle and skin. Blood pumps out around the claws, and Steve can feel it. _He can feel everything_. The tearing of tendons, the pop of the claws as they exit through the other side of his skin. He screams and screams, agony shoots through him and makes his throat raw. He can’t die like this, oh god, it’s so much worse than he thought it would be.

Steve uses the last of his adrenaline to move the arm holding the trinket. He presses it through the thick fur and into the wide barrel of the wolf’s chest. Steve can feel he metal burn, see it turn red as it blisters the skin. Above him, the wolf howls a terrible sound and rips its claws from Steve’s arm. The blond is overcome with elation as the wolf backs away and flees, footsteps fading into the distance. Steve lets out an anguished and relieved sound. He did it, he’s not dead. Not yet, anyways.

Best as he can before his endorphins run out, he cleans and wraps his wounds, all the time biting on a blanket to muffle his screams. He lies down in the ruins of the nest and crashes, exhaustion finally taken over. He fears of what the morning brings, if he makes it that far. It’s very likely he could bleed out while sleeping, but he’s gambled his life a lot lately, so he’s willing to take the risk.

When he finally succumbs to unconsciousness, he dreams of burning iron and glittering gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Pereche. - Mate.  
> Iubi. - Love.  
> Suprafiresc. - Supernautral, fae, creatures etc. 
> 
> i'm so sorry plz don't hate me, i just thought some angst was appropriate since its the one month anniversary of IW. a good note though, next chapter, Bucky's pov!


	6. Glamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky faces the horrors of his mind, and Natasha's there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Settle in folks cause this'll be a loooong note. First off:
> 
> Glossary:  
> Iubi - Love, a pet name.  
> Pereche - Mate.  
> Suprafiresc - The supernatural, the creatures of Romanian folklore.  
> Mount Grindușu - One of the highest elevation points on the Tarcău mountains. (A real place, check wiki if you want to know more)  
> Tarcău - The town Steve was snatched from, and the nearest town to the Hydra base. (A real place, check wiki if you want to know more)  
> Zână - A sort of fairy godmother. They guide and help the lost in the woods and are all around nice and good.  
> Suflet Mort - Similar to the Greek River Styx, spooky scary souls that want to unleash your greatest fear reside here. A place between dimensions, a no mans land. (I made this up myself)  
> Uniilă - A devil.  
> Samca - An evil entity in Romanian folklore often depicted as a naked woman with long disheveled hair, dried out breasts that touch the ground, iron hands with long nails sharp as knitting needles, and a tongue of fire.  
> Spiriduş - A small creature in Romanian folklore that can be good or evil, directly translates to sprites. Similar to fairies, but a bit more deadly.  
> Vrăjitoare - A witch, hi Nat!
> 
> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Sunteți gata să vă conformați. - Ready to comply.  
> Cum rămâne cu partenerul tău? - What about your mate?  
> El este mort, Am mâncat omul. - He is dead, I ate him.  
> Foarte bine, îl voi recupera pe general. - Very well then, I shall retrieve the General.  
> Lup - Wolf.
> 
> WARNING: Gorey gorey gore stuff in this chapter as well as vomiting. In depth discussions of dead bodies and all that they contain. Easily skip able, 4th and 5th pharagraphs, and after Bucky enters the Suflet Mort. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He doesn’t think he’s ever woken up in a worse condition. The burning in his thigh, on his chest, and the pile of chains that accompany him show that he put up one hell of a fight. Which doesn’t make sense, he’s always eager to get back to Steve. Though, to think of it, he doesn’t remember much, not even of the mission, which is concerning. 

When Bucky looks around he finds he’s not in the nest, or even near it. Steve isn’t around either. Steve. Where is he? He stumbles to his feet, hands braced against the wall for support. When he looks at them, they’re covered in blood. The chains clunk and rattle as they fall off his naked body and he’s distracted from his hands by the sound. 

Keeping one hand on the wall, he limps through the cave until he rounds the bend. When his eyes take in the scene in front of him, he freezes in place. The nest is destroyed, blankets in tatters surrounded by broken sticks. Thick lines rake deep and wide into the soil, and the dirt is is dark and putrid where it’s been soaked in blood. Bucky takes a deep inhale to scent the air and gags. 

Flesh. Human flesh, and blood,  _ so much blood _ , and Steve. Oh god, oh god not Steve. 

He darts towards the collapsed nest, ignoring the screaming pain in his thigh and manically digs through the blankets. Finally, after what feels like ages, he finds him. He uncovers Steve’s precious, lovely face. His sweet boy, his _iubi_ , his _pereche_. His skin is deathly pale, yet feverishly hot, and he doesn’t stir under Bucky’s hands. He forces himself to grab the edge of the blanket, to pull it down slowly and reveal the rest of the damage. It’s obvious just by looking that the blond’s left arm is ruined. The blood has long since soaked through the blanket, and the shape of it isn’t natural, not the right shape for all the flesh to be there. He swallows down a whine and looks to Steve’s leg. The injury there isn’t so bad, but still, the gash down the back of Steve’s right calf makes him feel sick to his stomach. 

What the hell  _ happened _ ? He scans the rest of Steve’s body for more injuries, and then he sees it. A tiny twist of melded nails roughly the size of a medallion, he can tell from where he sits that it’s pure iron. The spot on his chest burns, and it all come back to him at once, an overwhelming wave of visuals and scents. The feeling of uncontrollable rage, the inability to control his body and mind. He watched from somewhere locked far away in his own conscious, unable to stop any of it. 

With a scream of horror, Bucky throws himself backwards and far, far away from Steve. He stares at the blond’s body with wide eyes while he pants in fear. His hands, well that explains all the blood. The thought makes his skin crawl and he can feel his stomach churning, making his throat open up. Steve’s arm, it was missing flesh, it  _ had _ to be, it didn’t look right. Oh god, what if Bucky had  _ eaten _ him? It’s the last straw, the visual of Steve screaming and looking at him in terror as he  _ ate him _ . He turns his head and vomits, the bile burns his throat like iron and he deserves it. His lungs and abdomen cramp with spasms, his body determined to get rid of everything in him. His nose runs and stings, and tears leak from his bloodshot eyes. 

Shaking, he turns away from the mess he made, too afraid that if he looks he’ll see something he doesn’t want to. Surely this is the end, Bucky’s really done it this time. They were right, he’s nothing but a monster, he attacked- maybe even killed- his mate. His _ mate _ that’s, that never happened before, it couldn’t have. Wolf protection instincts are too strong, a real wolf would never kill their mate, or attack them. Only a  _ monster _ would do that. 

What can he do? He’s too scared to get near Steve, he can’t face the reality of what he’s done. How can he help, if Steve isn’t dead yet? There’s no way to care for him without touching him, and he can’t do that, he just can’t. Bucky refuses to leave Steve in the care of Hydra, who knows what they’ll do to him. He has to get out of the cave and find a  _ suprafiresc _ , one he can trust. He’ll have to travel to Mount Grindușu, maybe perform a few rituals, but maybe not. Steve didn’t smell like a mundie when he arrived, which means there’s a  _ suprafiresc  _ about in Tarcău. Hopefully they’re willing to help him without a sacrifice, he’s already traded a fang once and it took a hell of a long time to regrow. 

But first, he actually has to get out of the cave, and quick. He quickly formulates a plan, and hopes it’ll work. Gathering what minimal clothes he has, he dawns them and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he open them again, he’s not Bucky anymore, he’s the Asset. It gives one last, lingering gaze to the man in tattered blankets and knows what It must do. 

Mission Objective: Save the blond man, return him safely to Bucky.

The Asset walks stiffly, with dead eyes until It approaches the guard at the cave entrance. It doesn’t look at the man, stares straight forwards and speaks. “ _ Sunteți gata să vă conformați. _ ” 

The guard looks at It, and speaks himself, “ _ Cum rămâne cu partenerul tău? _ ” He says the last word with a sneer, it is meant to injure, but the Asset does not feel. The man locked away snarls and growls, and the Asset twitches with the power of his anger. 

“ _ El este mort, _ ” this time It is ready for the forceful swell of emotions and anguish from the man, but it is not any easier to not react. It hopes the guard doesn’t decide to check on that fact. “ _ Am mâncat omul _ ,” It adds quickly, so that they won’t check. Sure enough, the man’s face twists into one of disgust and he nods. 

“ _ Foarte bine, îl voi recupera pe general _ ,” he responds, and leaves his post. Now is Its chance. It fishes the knife out of Its pants and stabs at the lock, ignoring how the proximity to the bars makes Its skin irritated. The lock falls with a dull thunk into the dirt, the Asset kicks at the bars with Its booted feet and the gate swings open silently. It is a good sign, the  _ Zână _ are on Its side. The Asset ducks behind buildings, hiding from roaming agents and taking out any that get too close. It’s near to the border of Hydra territory when It hears trampling footsteps. Rumlow, the only agent fluent enough in English to prefer speaking it, rounds the corner of the building with a gun in hand, yelling into his comm. 

From where It is hidden It sees Rumlow kick the wall in frustration before muttering to himself, “Damned dog, that thing,” he sneers. “Ought to use that fucktoy’s corpse as bait, whatever’s left of it.” The Asset has to stiffel back a whimper, and whoa isn’t that new. A crackling voice comes over the comm and Rumlow grunts back a response before stomping off. The Asset will have to hurry, if the agents do resort to Rumlow’s plan, the blond man will not live long. 

Once the Asset reaches the farthest stretch of Hydra territory, It takes a long, even breath. Leaving magically boarded territory is always an….experience, let’s say. One step at a time the Asset crosses the first border and enters the realm of the  _ Suflet Mort.  _ Almost immediately the  _ Uniilă, Samca,  _ and the tormented souls that walk with them are upon It. They scream and yell terrible, screeching curses. 

The Asset’s worst nightmares flood Its vision, ruthlessly slitting throats of innocent children, blood spattering Its face, clouding Its eyes. The blond man’s corpse strung up like freshly killed game, his entrails left exposed and hanging, flies buzzing around. A pack of wolves circling around his dangling feet growling and jumping up to snap at him. The man’s eyes open and he look at the Asset and screams. “Bucky!” His throat sounds bloody and raw. “Bucky please! Bucky save me, help me!” The Asset cannot move, can only watch as the wolves tear the man limb from limb, shredding the flesh of his lower body. The whole time, the man screams for Bucky, for the  _ Asset, _ to save him. But he cannot. The Asset withholds Its screams and powers on, panting and sweating through the ringing of Its ears. 

The other side is near, It can feel the pull of the light, but also the hesitation. It is not a pure being, It has killed the innocent. The Asset only hopes performing this good deed will allow It to cross to the other side. 

Exiting is always harder than entering, especially for a stained soul like Its’ is. The Asset pushes against the resistance of the border and ignores the burn that covers Its body like a bad sunburn. It emerges to the other side and has to take a moment to adjust from the horrid noises and sights from the  _ Suflet Mort _ , to the still silence of the Earthly night. Cricket chirp and trees rustle in the wind, and the cold air washes over the Asset. 

Time to move. 

It takes the quickest route to  Tarcău, letting Itself been seen, openly radiating power and a slight bit of magic. It needs to lure out the  _ suprafiresc _ , whatever it may be. While leaving the edge of town, where the hussle and bussle of humans can still be heard, It spots a group of  _ spiriduş.  _ The little creatures are sat atop toadstools and chittering to themselves. This group doesn’t look too maleficent so It crouches down next to them, tiny black eyes settle on him and rows of tiny, sharp teeth are flashed in the darkness. Oh, it’s going to be like that is it? The Asset rolls Its eyes, It really doesn’t have time for this. Taking off a glove, It brings Its hand to Its mouth and pricks a finger with a fang. The blood wells up and drips down into the soil, and the  _ spiriduş  _ are upon it instantly, fighting and screeching, snapping razor sharp teeth at delicate wigs. 

The Asset growls deeply to regain their attention, and they look at It obediently. It has no need to speak, they get the message,  _ ‘Send them to me.’  _ It stands and continues down the path, picking up the pace, It’d hate to keep them waiting.

The Asset arrives at the summit, and turns Its back to the cluster of trees, knowing they won’t appear if It is looking. The night wind whips Its long hair around, and the flickering lights from the village far below make the land match the sky. 

There’s a shift in the air, a certain charge of energy that makes Its hair stand up. Turning slowly, Its glowing eyes pick up the hint of movement in the trees. It gives a soft sound of submission, tucking Its head down.  _ ‘I mean no harm.’  _  Minutes pass before there is more movement, and finally, it emerges. No, not it,  _ she _ . A  _ Vrăjitoare _ .

\--

Her fiery hair is unearthly still, even as they stand with the trees shaking and the wind whistling through the weeds. She fixes the Asset with a dissecting look, and she cocks her head. Not a show of weakness, but to make her seem more human, and that thought makes Its skin crawl. 

“You smell like him,” she states primly, but then narrows her green eyes at Its face. “Huh,” she huffs, walking forward carelessly, “but you aren’t with us, are you  _ lup _ ?” She says the name teasingly, like they are close friends. The Asset growls a warning but the  _ Vrăjitoare _ just laughs, though the amusement quickly slips off her face when she takes another reading of It. She clenches her jaw in a way that doesn’t bode well for the Asset, causing Its stomach to sink.

“For him,” she declares, standing up tall and crossing her arms firmly, “I owe him a favor. You however, I owe nothing.”

“Understood,” It grumbles. They nod to each other before she speaks again. 

“Well, lead the way  _ lup _ .”

\--

Being a wolf on the way back is more beneficial than being human. This way, It doesn’t have to speak to the  _ Vrăjitoare  _ and lets Bucky take control, and the Asset takes the backseat, always ready for the slightest sign of danger. Bucky’s just glad the Asset didn’t cock this up, and that the woman can keep up with his sprinting, though she does seem to appear out of nowhere, so it’s probably teleportation. The trip through  _ Suflet Mort _ is much easier with a pure (“Mostly,” she assured him) soul by his side, she blocks out the nightmares and puts a few desperate souls out of their misery. She’s a bit cold afterwards but Bucky figures dealing with the horror of tortured souls does that to a person. 

Making it past Hydra agents with the assistance of a invisibility spell is laughably easy, and Bucky is really wondering if he can convince her to stick around. Steve could use a friend, especially after this. Getting  _ back _ in the cave is a bit more tricky, and requires Bucky to get a little creative. After multiple failed attempts at opening the lock, and bleeding paws from the iron, he’s about to give up and beg for assistance when the lock suddenly falls off the gate and the door swings open. The  _ Vrăjitoare _ raises her eyebrows at him but he just shrugs, well, at least as best as he can as a wolf. He’s gonna owe the  _ Zână _ one hell of a thank you after this. 

The nerves get a hold of him as they come upon the wrecked nest, causing Bucky to whine and pace, terrified that if he checks on Steve, he won’t be alive. The woman ignores his pacing and kneels by Steve’s body, letting her hands hover over him as they glow. She makes a grunt of frustration before turning to Bucky. “You did a number on him huh?” Bucky tucks his tail and lowers his head in shame, he doesn’t need more reminders of how awful a mate he is. “Well,” she sighs, “I can fix him, but uh he won’t be, uh, the same. Different,” she looks a bit nervous and unsure of herself. 

Ah fuck being a wolf, he needs to use his words. Bucky feels his vertebrae stretch and pop, along with his hips and legs. His teeth feel like they’ve all been pulled out and his jaw broken as his face slides into his human one. He just grits through the pain like always and waits until he has use of his vocal cords again.  “Different how?” He asks, a million scenarios run through his head and most of them aren’t good. 

“He won’t be entirely human anymore, no longer as simple as flesh a bone. I’ll have to replace most of his arm-.” 

Bucky cuts her off sharply, “Replace- With what!” He’s practically yelling now, stalking over to hover by Steve, as if he can actually protect him.

“Gold,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It will imitate the flesh, still mobile and giving to touch, but practically indestructible. He will be fine, trust me.” 

Bucky gives her a leery look, “Prove it.” She gives him a look of annoyance and lifts her shirt up. Sure enough, there is a circle of gold on her lower left abdomen, and the closer Bucky looks the more he’s amazed. The gold is swirling and shifting, as if it’s liquid, yet it stays in place. The  _ Vrăjitoare  _ reaches down and firmly pokes the spot, yet it stays solid, giving no more than it would if she were pressing skin. “Amazing,” he whispers, eyes captured in awe. His gaze breaks when she pulls her shirt back down and he flicks his eyes to look at hers. “Okay,” he nods, “do it.” She gives him a confirming nod and turns her back, starting to unwrap Steve’s bandages. “Wait.”

She turns her head and quirks an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“What’s your name?” It is the ultimate show of trust and truth. A name is a very powerful thing in their world, and he will know if she lies to him. She would never give a name, her true one or not, if she had ill intent, or had any doubt this would work. 

Her green eyes are clear and true as she speaks, “Natalia, that is my true name. But, as friends, you may call me Natasha.” Bucky can’t tell if the “friends” statement was a joke but either way, he now has  _ two _ names. He can’t decide if she’s a genius or stupid. 

Natasha takes a deep breath and hovers her hands over Steve’s stretched out arm and her hands start to shimmer as she talks softly. Bucky keeps his eyes on her hands, knowing that if he looks at the carnage of Steve’s arm he’s sure to get sick again. Twisting tendrils of thread thin gold flow from her palms and down to the exposed bone of Steve’s arm. It flows like water into the empty spaces and fills them out. The gold shifts and glitters like a lake under the sun, it’s completely mesmerizing.  The gold fills out the missing flesh until Steve’s arms looks like an arm again, and Bucky chuckles a bit at the way Natasha added a bit of muscle to it. 

“What?” She asks innocently, looking at Bucky now that she’s finished.

“Nothin’, you just gave him all that muscle, he’s gonna be lopsided now,” he says lightly. She frowns at him in a sad way.

“I didn’t add much at all  _ lup _ , he’s lost a lot of weight and muscles mass. Physical injuries are only the beginning of his problems.” The smile leaves his face abruptly and he stares at his hands in shame. How could he not notice? How has he managed to fuck up so badly? “Calm down  _ lup _ , it’s not your fault. You’ve helped a lot actually, if it wasn’t for your mother henning, he’d be dead,” she explains. “He was a big guy before they gave him to you. He was bound to end up rough, when you take a guy like that and throw him to the wolves, no offence.”

“None taken,” he mutters softly. What does his Stevie really look like? It dawns on him now the desperation for freedom Steve must have felt. This is all Bucky’s ever known, and he didn’t start living, not truly, until he had Steve. But Steve had a whole life, he’d seen things other than these dirt walls and a target through a sight. He had friends,  _ family _ , and Bucky kept him trapped here, because he was selfish. 

Bucky vows to himself, and to Steve, that they’ll get out of here. They’ll get out this week, not in a few months or years like Bucky was planning, when he could let Steve go. He wants to see the world with his  _ pereche _ , to feel the sun on his skin and watch Steve do anything and everything. “How long,” he asks Natasha, “for him to heal? When could we leave.” 

“Two or three days, depends on how long he sleeps. He’ll need to practice walking on that leg and using his arm,” she tells him sternly. “So don’t go pushing him.” 

“Will you stay?” 

Natasha gives him an unimpressed look, “I owe him my life, I’ll see fit that he makes it out of here alive,” her face softens a bit, “and you too.” 

\--

Steve sleeps for another day straight but Natasha assures Bucky that he’s fine. “His body is taking the time to adjust and heal to the arm.” Still, he’s anxious. What will Steve think when he wakes up? Bucky didn’t have his permission to do this, what if he wanted to die, what if that was his ticket out? The thought makes Bucky’s stomach turn and he has to stop...being, for a while after that. It’s happening a lot these days, slipping into the Asset’s programing, it’s just easier to let self preservation keep him physically functioning and not have to think. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, he knows that, but it’s all he can do to not have a breakdown. 

Natasha, on the other hand, seems to fine and dandy. She tells Bucky how she and Steve met, and recalls it with a fond smile that makes Bucky nervous. Other than that. she’s a fine housemate. She doesn’t walk around naked, or urinate on his belongings, and knows when Bucky’s reached his limit, and doesn’t push it. They’re sitting in Not-Quite-Companionable-But-Also-Not-Too-Awkward Silence when Steve finally wakes up. It starts with a tiny stir, he shifts and harrumphs unhappily, snuggling deeper into the blankets before shooting upright. His face morphs into one of pain and he grips his head in his hands, “Ah, fuck, shit.”

“Steve!” Bucky exclaims happily, rushing forward before stopping short, remembering he’s not allowed to touch. 

Steve looks at him with cloudy eyes and a confused look on his face. “Fuck,” he says eloquently, causing Natasha to chuckle a bit. Steve turns to look at her and his eyes go wide. “Holy shit, why are you here?”

She gestures to his arm with her head, “Take a look for yourself.” Bucky watches as Steve looks at his new arm, the blond gasps and slowly brings his other hand to touch it lightly.

“I,” he looks at Natasha in shock, “I would’ve been fine. You didn’t have to do this.”

“No you wouldn’t’ve, you idiot,” Bucky blurts, furrowing his brows angrily. Steve looks at him and Bucky can’t read his face, and that scares him. 

“You’re the idiot,” Steve says senselessly, apparently looking for a fight. God, he’s so beautiful. And  _ alive _ . 

“Shut up and kiss me you goddamn punk.” Bucky surges forward, throwing his no touching rule out the window and fists his hands in Steve’s shirt. Their lips touch and Bucky feels like crying, Steve is so sweet and pliant under him, lips moving smoothly with his own. He tastes like stale breath and his mouth is dry but Bucky doesn’t care, he was so scared of losing him, and here he is. Shining with gold and looking so goddamn beautiful. He’s a masterpiece, he doesn’t deserve to be locked away in the dark and kept “safe”, he deserves to be put on a pedestal with shining lights for everyone to see, risks be damned. Bucky will stand by him always and keep him safe from the world, but far enough away that he can still see the world and be free. 

He’s about to slip a hand under Steve’s shirt and show him  _ just how much  _ he missed him, when Natasha  _ rudely _ reminds him that they aren’t alone by clearing her throat. Bucky isn’t about to share the experience of being with Steve with anyone, let alone allow them see it. He’s about to turn and growl, tell Natasha to leave so he can finish ravishing his mate, be he can already hear Steve chastising him.  _ “Bucky stop that. It isn’t polite to growl at people.”  _ Curse his reasoning. Bucky turns to glare (only a little bit!) at Natasha and manhandles Steve so that the blond is sitting on his lap, back touching Bucky’s chest. He wraps his arms securely around Steve’s waist and has to remind himself to keep his hands to himself, especially when Steve’s cock is  _ right there. _ “Yes?” He grumbles, pulling Steve even closer, and preening happily when Steve pats his arm. Natasha just stares at them in exasperation and rolls her eyes, looking to the sky with a ‘God help me’ air.

“We need a plan, we can’t just bust out and hope for the best,” she says, propping herself against the wall and crossing her legs at the ankle. Bucky really doesn’t feel like discussing this right now, all he wants to do as snuggle and fuck but of course, he can never get what he wants. 

“Then what do you suggest?” His sweet boy asks, oh his voice is so precious and mellow.   
“I’ll tell you once the golden retriever over here starts paying attention.” Steve jabs at him with an elbow and he does not yelp,  _ he does not _ . Natasha smirks at them, “Thank you, now…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Sunteți gata să vă conformați. - Ready to comply.  
> Cum rămâne cu partenerul tău? - What about your mate?  
> El este mort, Am mâncat omul. - He is dead, I ate him.  
> Foarte bine, îl voi recupera pe general. - Very well then, I shall retrieve the General.  
> Lup - Wolf.
> 
> Wow! What a chapter huh. I think (think) next chapter may the last chapter and then the epilogue but I'm not sure. Also I made a Stucky playlist on Spotify you listen to it here: spotify:user:sweetsoundsofthesouth:playlist:1X4OLnlKN1E7AgOwtokrv3 If you want me to make a playlist specifically for this fic lemme know and I'll make it happen. 
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, nothing at all, whatever you want!


	7. Book of Fables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fairytale ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it my friends, the final chapter. Thanks for sticking with me through all of this. This chapter was so hard to write because I just don't want to let this fic go, and I kept drawing to distract myself. I'll probably add to this series in a few months honestly, I just can't stay away. P.S. I'm a shit artist so enjoy those shitty drawings.

This plan is fuckin’ stupid, it’s stupider than IHOP changing their name to IHOb. No, wait, that’s pretty dumb. Well, this plan comes a close second.

“I thought that you said we _weren’t_ going to bust out and hope for the best,” Bucky says from across the room, scowling.

“We aren’t,” Nat answers, “now I’m here to help too.” Steve almost wants to ask the universe to put him back in a coma. Seriously, where did Bucky find her?

“Just because you have magic doesn’t mean breaking the gate and hoping for the best will work,” Steve sighs defeatedly, letting his hands hang limp where he has his arms propped on his knees. Natasha says something that sounds like, “worked before,” and goes back to playing with Bucky’s knives. This causes Bucky to puff up and scramble for a knife of his own and do knife tricks, glancing at Steve to make sure he’s watching. The brunet has been posturing like crazy since Steve got the hang of his fancy new arm, trying to prove (needlessly, by the way) that he was the superior mate. Steve rolls his eyes when Bucky isn’t looking and smiles at him before calling, “Cool tricks babe.” God, he’s insufferable, Steve loves the hell out of him.

Bucky smiles at Steve like the sun is shining out of his ass and crawls over, snuggling up against the blond like a puppy begging for food. Steve really wishes Natasha would magic herself away for a while so he and Bucky could fuck. He really misses having sex with his boyfriend, and maybe it would put an end to this needless showing off if Bucky could claim him. Alas, here the three of them are, all stuck in the cave.

Natasha’s grand plan is to wait until nightfall, break out of the cave and hope for the best. Well, more specifically she’ll cause a distraction so that Steve and Bucky can escape, and she’ll teleport herself out of there and meet up with them later. But break out and hope for the best is basically the same thing.

For all that Natasha is terrible at crafting escape plans, she sure did give him a cool ass arm. Sure, he’ll never get through any security again and will have to always wear long sleeves but it’s _so cool_. He’s never been one for self portraits, but he might just give it a shot now, the arm is too magnificent not to draw. Bucky’s not as keen on it- for understandable reasons- he says Steve was perfect the way he was and his arm isn’t anything special. That’s just a plain out lie but Steve’ll let him have it, he deserves that much.

Speaking of, Bucky decides it is the perfect time to sneak up behind Steve while he’s organizing their food stock later that evening and grab him by the waist. Steve jumps at the sudden presence of him and lets out a shaky but amused laugh.

“I got you,” Bucky growls playfully in his ear, dipping his head to give Steve’s neck a nip.

“That you did. Any particular reason why?” Steve asks fondly, turning in Bucky’s arms to give the man a sweet kiss. Bucky recuperates enthusiastically and the two of them lose minutes in each other. Bucky pulls away after some time to move his lips elsewhere.

“No,” _kis_ s, “I just,” _kiss,_ “missed you.” God he’s so sweet. Steve gives Bucky a slow, soft smile and indulges in one last, lingering kiss. He misses this, he misses the trading of tiny kisses, the snuggling, the loving pets. He misses throwing a stick and laughing as Bucky runs after it, misses giving exaggerated kisses to Bucky’s wet, cold, doggy nose. But things change, they change vastly and quickly; the world doesn’t wait to see if you’ll catch up, or fall behind. He’s about to say something stupid and sappy when Natasha speaks.

“Boys,” her voice sounds grave, and when Steve turns to look at her, he knows something is wrong. Her face is ashen and uneasy, Bucky’s expression turns dark quickly.

“What is it?”

“We need to leave tonight, like, now, preferably.” Bucky stiffens and shifts to stand in front of Steve like the overprotective idiot he is.

“What’s happening Tasha?” Steve asks from behind Bucky, who’s doing his best impression of a brick wall.

“Something is not right in the...realm. Something is being created, from stolen magic.”

Bucky growls, “That’s not possible.”

“Yes, I know that,” Natasha says impatiently, “but it’s happening.”

“How’s it not supposed to be possible?” Steve really doesn’t understand all this magic talk.

“Magic is like matter right? It can’t be created or destroyed. Magic is passed on through the cycle of life and death, and the replenishment of the earth, like fossil fuels. It takes a very long time, and we _suprafiresc_ live very long lives, so we know when a new magical life source should enter the realm. This is not one of those times, and it’s coming from here.” Natasha explains.

“Well then how is it being created,” Bucky interjects, scowling at the redhead.

Natasha throws her hands up in defeat. “Fuck, I don’t know! All I know is that it’s dangerous and we need to get out of here now,” she looks at Steve. “They took you for a reason, they don’t leave witnesses,” Bucky growls, “if they think there’s a chance to salvage your parts and use them for something, they will.” Steve gives a heavy sigh and nods his head.

“Yeah, ok. Let’s get out of here.” Natasha gives her trademark solitary nod.

\--

All Hell is breaking loose. Hydra agents scramble around with weapons, yelling in a language Steve doesn’t understand. Steve is being pinned down, with a mouth full of dirt by aforementioned Hydra agents. They took one look at his spiffy new arm and shot it with some kind of electricity that’s still skittering across his skin. His muscles lock and spasm, making it hard to control them so he can actually escape. They took Bucky down soon after, as the man looked at Steve in distress. Natasha’s whole “Create a Distraction and Run” plan isn’t quite working out.

They drag the three of them- including Natasha, surprisingly- to the Med Bay. Steve watches as Bucky and Natasha are pulled into a room in the stark white hall. Bucky thrashes and howls, fur sprouting through his clothes and claws clicking and scratching on the tile floor. Steve can’t even say anything before the door is slammed shut and he hears the locks bolt. There’s commotion inside the room, and his heart sinks to think about Bucky, separated from him once again. Luckily- or not, as he’ll soon learn-, he’s deposited in the room right next to the one Bucky and Natasha are in. It’s a sparse operation room with lots of sharp metal tools and a chair that looks like a torture device. He’s strapped into the chair, too weak to flight back, body still shaking with the aftershocks of electrocution. The Hydra Baddies that took him captive leave the room and a door that he didn’t know was there opens behind his head. Steve takes deep breaths and tries to steel himself as he hears footsteps come up behind him. It’s only a little bit of a surprise when he hears the owner of those footsteps.

“Well if it isn’t Captain America,” Rumlow says, reaching over to pet Steve’s head. The blond really wants to make a smart comment but all he can think of is that damn vine. Curse his sense of humor. Rumlow ignores his lack of response and continues monologuing, like any good villain does. “It seems that you aren’t dead after all, and in one piece,” he looks at Steve’s arm, “Well, mostly one piece.” Steve wants to roll his eyes and also cry because this would be his life, dammit. Rumlow picks up a remote from the little rolling cart by Steve’s side and tosses it up and down. “Now you see, we’re going to do a few _operations_ while we have you so conveniently here. We don’t have anesthesia of course, it’s just _so_ hard to get it here, out in the middle of nowhere. But don’t worry,” he smiles sickeningly, “this here chair will take care of that for you, I’ll make sure you don’t remember any of it.” He turns his back to Steve and fiddles with a few syringes on the cart before proclaiming, “Oh! I almost forgot, they’ll be watching too.”  

With that, he presses a button on the remote and the wall that Steve faces turns to clear glass, and he can’t help but whimper as his eyes gaze upon the scene in the next room. Natasha is fuming in the corner, glowing light shifting and whipping about her. Bucky is banging against the door with bloodied fists, but it makes no sound. Good, that way he won’t have to hear Bucky scream.

“ _Soldat!_ ” Rumlow barks, and Bucky’s head snaps to the glass. He rushes towards it with fear in his eyes and when he sees Steve strapped down into the chair, his hands slam against the glass. His face contorts into a scream of horror that looks so anguishing Steve feels his eyes sting and water. He can only imagine how loud it must be as even Natasha is covering her ears in a grimace. Rumlow only laughs and leans over Steve with a knife, he slips the blade under the hem of Steve’s shirt and pulls it up sharply. Steve tosses his head back as far as he can to avoid the knife, though the tip still nicks his chin. Rumlow rips off the rest of his shirt and starts sticking electrodes to his chest and hooking him up to various machines.

While the man is distracted, Steve flexes in the restraints, but finds them unbreakable, still, he rubs his wrists raw with the effort. Bucky is sobbing behind the glass and Steve can’t make himself watch, he doesn’t want his last memory of his lover to be that of his crying. He closes his eyes and thinks of the nice times, the giggling under blankets, play fighting in the dirt, hand feeding juicy watermelon. It’s so nice he almost doesn’t feel the pinch of the needle entering his skin. Almost. _‘Yow’_ he thinks, like he’s some cartoon character from the 60s, and watches Rumlow push down the plunger on the syringe. The clear substance burns as it enters his muscle and he hisses, trying not to tense as he knows it will make it worse. Rumlow tutts like Steve’s a dog, “Oh honey I know. I know it hurts, but it’s good for you.” Fuckin’ liar.

“Now for the main event.” Oh boy. Rumlow picks of a syringe of almost comically size and flicks it like a tv nurse, even though there are no air bubbles. The substance inside shifts like it’s living, and Steve gets the feeling that _this_ is the stolen magic Tasha was talking about. Rumlow turns to Steve with a feral grin, “Any last words?” Steve gulps heavily and closes his eyes, knowing he won’t be able to look at either of his friends.

“Bucky,” he says, assuming his mate can hear him, “I love you. You’re the best damn _pereche_ someone could ever ask for. Natasha, thank you, and don’t let Bucky watch.” Rumlow grunts and picks up a mouthguard and thrusts it in Steve’s face.

“Open.” Steve complies. The rubber is firm but squishy, taking the pressure of his teeth and bouncing back. Rumlow obnoxiously whistles a tune as he wipes the inside of Steve’s elbow clean with isopropyl alcohol, like he actually cares about it being sterile. Steve turns his head away and screws his eyes shut when he feels the initial pressure of the needle, gritting his teeth even harder as Rumlow fishes around for his vein. He hears and playful, “Ah, there it is,” from the other man before the lights flash red and sirens blare. Rumlow growls and yanks the syringe out of Steve and throws it on the table. “Oh for fucks sake!” Steve flicks his eyes over to the glass wall and sees that the room’s wall has a large hole in it and Natasha and Bucky are gone. Honestly, that’s what they get for using drywall with no reinforcements.

Steve watches with wide eyes Rumlow rips off his shirt and uses the tattered remains of Steve’s to tie off his left arm. He flicks at the inside of his elbow until the veins appears and he jabs the syringe meant for Steve into himself. As he injects the substance, Steve sees a brand on his right pectoral, not unlike the one Bucky has. This one is fresh and raw, an angry red that looks wet with blood and exudate. It’s the symbol Steve saw that first day, and that is littered about uniforms and buildings here. When Rumlow is finished, he drops the syringe on the floor and stalks out of the room through the door Steve came in, but leaves it open behind him.

Dammit. Bucky and Natasha are in the wind, and he’s vulnerable to any passers by. He struggles against his restraints for some time until he manages to slip his wrist free. Steve hastily undoes the rest of his bindings and tumbles out of the chair. He searches the lab for a weapon of some kind but only finds a small scalpel. It’s better than nothing so he snatches it and fleas the room. The hallways are quite other than the blaring alarms, but he can’t be too careful. Steve slowly makes his way through the compound, trying to remember the twists and turns to the exit. He’s about to round a corner when he hears the soft shuffle of feet, and they’re close. Steve ducks back into a doorway and tries to make himself as small as possible. When the person darts past, he strikes, tackling them to the ground.

Well, that’s what he was trying to do. Steve’s hardly touched the person when they throw their legs around his neck and flip him to the ground. He lands with a loud grunt and looks up at his assailant. It’s Natasha. She’s looking at him with as much wonder.

“What the hell Tasha?” He winces, sitting up and rubbing at the back of his head.

“How was I supposed to know it was you! I was coming back to get you, get up hurry.” Steve does as she says and as soon as he’s on steady feet she drags him down the hall. “We’ve gotta go, Bucky’s holding off Rumlow.”

“Rumlow?” He asks as they near the exit and are faced with the darkening sky. “What happened to him? Was that the stolen magic?”

“Yes, and as for what happened to him-” The body of a Hydra agent is launched into the wall next to them, his head shattering on impact. Steve follows the directions that the man came from and sees the most horrific beat of all.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yeah.”

The beast is some horrible hybrid of wolf a man, it’s a monster. Steve goes cold all over to imagine that this could have been him. There’s a deep gash on the creature’s shoulder, leaking a steady stream of blood that mats and darkens the grey fur. Steve doesn’t know what to do, he can only stand fixed to his spot on the ground next to Natasha.

Suddenly, something leaps atop the monster and Steve is shocked to see that it’s Bucky. He’s more than twice his normal size, large as a shire horse and towering over the Hydra agents. The beast matches him in height, but not in power. Bucky clamps his jaws to the back of Rumlow’s neck and drags him down, spinning in a death role, not unlike that of an alligator. Rumlow goes down with a terrible noise, but Bucky doesn’t let up his attack. He continues to clamp down on flesh and yank and pull, separating fur from skin and skin from flesh. Rumlow retaliates, swiping out with his massive claws and gouging into Bucky’s ribcage. Steve’s breath sticks in his chest as the moonlit sky glints of the pearly white bones, just like his dream. Steve starts to scream and goes to dart towards the fight, but Natasha’s crushing grip on his arm brings him to a halt.

“Let go Natasha! I have to save Bucky, dammit!” He wails, but she is an immovable force and the look on her face tells him all he need to know. It is fate, he cannot change anything, or interfere, it is the way it is meant to be. He sobs, knees going weak under him and he sinks into the damp dirt that cools his knees. His body feels strange, like he is drifting and not all the way there. He looks to Natasha and sees her form start to fade, blown away like dust.

“It’s time to go Steve.” He can only nod.

\--

The house Nataasha takes him to is pleasant, a nicely sized cottage at the top of a hill, overlooking a lake a few miles away. The other mountain ranges are visible and turn a ghostly white with distance, and the trees surrounding the house and yard make it feel cozy and protected. If not for the circumstances, Steve would quite like this place, but alas, it is not in good fun. He sits numbly in a wooden chair at a wooden table in a wooden house with a wooden heart. Natasha looks at him in pity from across the table, and slowly spins a mug in her hands. They’ve been sat here for ages and they’ve yet to take a drink, still, the mugs spit out steam. A little bit of magic.

Natasha stands and walks over to Steve’s side of the table and gives his head a gentle stroke. “I will go to collect him, then we will do what must be done. You are welcome to stay here afterwards, or come to live with me.” She doesn’t entertain the fact that he will be able to leave this wretched place, to forget the land that took everything from him. He doesn’t answer. She sighs and walks out the door, and after some distance the spell breaks, the mug in his hands turns cold.

\--

In his dream Bucky kisses him sweetly, he knows it is a dream because Bucky is dead. And he couldn’t do anything about it. In his dream Bucky holds him close and smiles softly, showing off his cute little fangs and the creases by his eyes. He’s a beautiful glowing gold, and they’re wrapped up in a vague haziness that distinguishes this place from reality.

“I love you,” Bucky says, his sweet staccato voice so lovely to hear.

“I love you,” Steve answers, running his fingertips over Bucky’s face, committing every little detail to memory.

“Steve,” Bucky’s rumbles, “wake up.” Steve furrows his brows.

“No, I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave you,” he whines holding tight to his lover.

“Wake up,” Bucky says, but he has Natasha’s voice. “I need help. Steve it’s Bucky, please wake up.” Steve’s surroundings shift and warp, the warmth is sucked out of the air like a vacuum, leaving his ears to roar with the sound of blood. He gasps, sitting up straight on the couch as he wakes from his slumber. Natasha is on the floor at his feet, staining the braided rug with blood. Bucky’s corpse lays next to her.

No, not corpse, he’s _breathing_.

“Shit,” he scrambles off the couch and starts applying pressure to the nearest wound he sees. Blood soaks his hands but doesn’t leak through, which could mean one of two things: Bucky’s lost too much blood, or he’s relatively ok. That’s two very different ends of the spectrum. “What-how did-Nat?”

She lets out a heavy sigh and runs her hands over Bucky’s body, magically healing his wounds. “I don’t know, Hydra had restrained Rumlow, didn’t want to lose their new asset once it was clear they wouldn’t get Bucky alive. He was hardly standing when I found him, dropped as soon as I touched him.”

“Is he,” Steve swallows nervously and strokes Bucky’s face, “is he gonna live?” Natasha gives him a sweet smiles and nods.

“He’s not out of the woods yet, but he’ll be ok.”

\--

In the hills surrounding lake Cuiejdel there sits a cottage inhabited by a foreigner, his boyfriend, and their dog. The locals of the nearby village gawk when the foreigner comes by, he only ever brings the dog, and they never see this so called boyfriend. _‘I hear the dog is a vârcolac.’ ‘It’s a wild wolf, not a dog.’ ‘That American is crazy.’_ They whisper and gossip, kids hide behind posts and the elderly peak through their blinds. Tourists are warned to stay away from the road that leads to the cottage, as it is regularly patrolled by the dog, who will attack. When at the market the dog preens and lets kids stroke it and pull at its fur, as long as it can keep an eye on its owner. As soon as the blond man is out of sight the dog becomes aggressive, restless and anxious.

The dog stays close to the man’s side, eyeing those who talk to him wearily, as if they make one wrong move they’ll be food. The foreigner seems oblivious to this behavior, instead petting the dog’s head and cooing, calling it a good boy, which earns him a few nips. The man will only laugh and bid the villagers goodbye, saying he will see them next time, and that his boyfriend must miss him. The dog seems the find this amusing and will tug on the man’s pants.

Every few weeks the man and dog will disappear, it is safe to wander the land near the cottage without fear, though a few kids have gotten an eyeful of things they shouldn’t’ve. The man will return to the market a little ruffled, covered in hickies and with a dazed look on his face, but happy. The dog is well behaved and wags its tail, accepts treats and pets from kids and will loll its tongue out. Occasionally, a woman with flame red hair will stay with them, and with her she brings an aura of danger and magic. A hawk circles above her and parents heard their children away, even as she watches with a smirk. She is the only human the dog trusts other than the foreigner, and has never even given her a dirty look. While the humans run errands the dog and hawk will play in the field. The hawk with swoop and dive, coming at the dog with sharp talons. The dog only barks happily and leaps after it, snapping its sharp teeth at the hawk’s wings. The villagers watch on in awe while their humans look on in fond amusement. They speak to the animals as though they understand, and perhaps they do.

  
No matter what, all other dogs stay away from the man and his dog, and there is no wildlife in the woods surrounding the cottage. The dog stands watch in the dirt road and lurks the town at night. “ _Lupul dintre noi_ ,” they call him. The wolf among us. He lurks and he howls, and wears a collar with a pink wolf head stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: (from google so probably wrong)  
> Suprafiresc. - Supernatural  
> Soldat. - Soldier.  
> Pereche. - Mate.
> 
> Bye! Thanks for reading, until we meet again.
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, nothing at all, whatever you want!


	8. Sequel

Hey guys, I'm working on a sequel of sorts, mostly just a compilation of the boys being cute rather than a real story following a plot. But basically I'm asking for your input and to leave suggestions/requests of what you'd like to see. Thanks and I hope to see you all again soon!


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